How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days
by Coopereid
Summary: AU: Spencer's trying to be taken seriously as a journalist, while Derek wants to nab the biggest ad campaign of his career. The only thing they need is one another in the worst way.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** As always, I own absolutely nothing involving Criminal Minds (unfortunately). Fic is based on the movie 'How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days' - it's one of my favorite romantic comedies and I really wanted to translate it into a Derek/Spencer story. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Spencer sat at his desk, typing up an article he was sure to make a difference and have an impact on the reader. Emily rolled her chair over and peeked over her cubicle wall, attempting to read it

"We're writing about crises in other countries? Boy, is Strauss going to be disappointed in my article on lip liners," she commented, leaning forward on her elbows.

Spencer smiled to himself, saving the document and closing it. "It's just something I've been working on in my spare time."

"And it's admirable, believe me, but face it – nothing that doesn't pertain to a woman making herself look better for a man is _ever_ going to make it into the magazine. It doesn't matter how well-worded it is or how true. She's never going to go for it."

He sighed, leaning back in his seat and running a hand over his face. "I'm glad I busted my ass in grad school so I could work at a magazine where my headline last month was 'how to talk your way out of a speeding ticket'." He rolled his eyes. "I'm just lucky he was gay and interested, or I would've been screwed, paying the ticket, and probably cited for harassing an officer."

Emily laughed softly, shaking her head. "That would've been a sight to see. You could've written a whole new 'How To' series: 'How to Cover Your Ass in Prison', How to Keep a Boyfriend While in the Slammer' … oh, maybe even 'How to Not Become Somebody's Bitch'."

"Yes, because as you can see," he started, motioning toward the empty hallway, "there are plenty of suitors just willing and waiting to take me away from this dead-end job and live happily ever after."

Emily gave one last chuckle before rolling back to her own computer, proofreading her article.

It wasn't that Spencer hated his job, in fact, he somewhat enjoyed it. He was able to help people with their problems, though given the choice, he'd have gone back in time and attended med school instead, where he could be making a visible difference, or keep fighting to work at a legitimate news source. Instead, he settled for a job where he could find one, and he was sure that was one of his biggest mistakes in life. Working with his best friend JJ was a plus, as was meeting Emily, but some of his fellow co-workers made him especially glad that he was interested in men, considering their constant whining, bickering, and cluelessness.

He was pulled out of his mind when he noticed an envelope sitting on his desk, raising an eyebrow. "Emily, any clue what this is?"

She shook her head. "Not a clue, it's been there since you went on your typing rampage about twenty minutes ago."

He picked up the envelope, opening it up before smirking. "And guess who has tickets to the Stanley Cup finals?"

"Somebody who actually knows the sport of hockey?" she guessed.

He mock laughed. "No."

"…I thought you were a basketball fan?"

"Au contraire, I know how to break down basketball, figuring out the opposing team's shooting strategy. Hockey is my latest challenge."

"Wow, isn't that exciting?" she mumbled.

"So does that mean you don't want to come with me?" he asked, holding up the tickets and waving them.

Emily thought to herself. "Let's see… beautiful men in tons of equipment swinging at each other over a little black disc on the ice? Buy me a beer and count me in." She quickly pointed a finger at him. "But I'm _not_ putting out."

He rolled his eyes. "Believe me, honey, you're not my type."

"Ouch." She put a hand over her heart, feigning pain.

He smirked, turning his attention back to his desk. "Have you seen JJ yet today?"

Emily shook her head. "Not yet."

"It's not like her to be late," he said, checking his watch and clicking his tongue.

"She did say on the phone yesterday that her and Will had a blowout and broke up."

Spencer groaned, twirling around in his chair. "_Seriously_? They were only dating for a week, what could they possibly have a blowout over?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but she definitely didn't sound like she was up to company."

He got up from his desk, pulling on his jacket and scarf. "Come on, we're going to check on her."

"Are you sure?"

"Considering if Strauss catches her not being here, breakup or not, she's probably going to fire her? Yes, I'm positive."

Emily got up from her own desk, grabbing her purse. "So much drama – this is why I don't do relationships."

"Right," Spencer started, putting his bag over his shoulder, "you're more the one night stand type, right?"

She scoffed, swatting at his arm. "Just for that, you're buying the coffee."

* * *

The one perk to driving a motorcycle, Derek found out, was weaving through busy traffic in the morning as he pleased. This meant that he was able to sleep in as much as he could before rolling out of bed and getting ready. The other drivers were never too pleased with what he did, but he didn't care, considering he was always able to get to work on time, not to mention he could park wherever he found a spot, even if it was between two cars. He pulled up to work and parked his bike, pulling off the helmet and running a hand over his scalp.

He saw Seaver at a newsstand, picking up a copy of a girly magazine. Rolling his eyes, he walked over, shaking his head.

"Come on, that's the most intellectual thing you can pick up for a read?" he asked, tucking his helmet under his arm.

She rolled her eyes, hitting his arm with it. "We all know you'd pick it up – there's too many women in it, you might catch the straight."

He smirked, moving closer to her. "What, sweetness, are you interested?"

"Not a chance."

Derek turned around, facing Jordan Todd. "Always a pleasure you two, but I'm not going to waste my time trying to figure out how to," he moved to see the cover of a magazine, "talk my way out of a speeding ticket'." He gave them a quick wave before walking inside.

Walking into the office, he found Rossi sitting at his own desk, and Garcia leaning against his. Shaking his head, he set his helmet on his desk.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he said, kissing her cheek.

She grinned. "I'll show you a good morning, hot stuff."

"What were you up to last night?" Rossi asked, setting his mail down on the desk.

He thought to himself. "Trying to get Stanley Cup Finals tickets, failing miserably, and spending the night on the couch with Clooney."

"So no orgies?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, no orgies. And if there were, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to be hearing about them."

"You're correct."

He looked over at Rossi after going through his faxes. "So, when do we start sucking up to Hotch to get that diamonds campaign?"

Rossi gave Garcia a look and sighed.

"What, are they no longer going through our company? Give me the number, I'll talk them back into it."

"No need, sugarplum," Garcia said, patting his hand.

"…Then what's going on?"

"Seaver and Todd got it," Rossi told him, ready for his reaction.

He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

Rossi gave him a shrug. "Hotch thought that two women would be better at an ad campaign for jewelry than two guys and a Garcia who specialize in athletic equipment and alcoholic beverages."

Groaning, he looked up at the ceiling. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Precious gems aren't exactly our forte," Rossi started, trying to reason with him.

"I have to say I'm with the Italian stallion on this one," Garcia added, holding up her hands, "if it's not chunky, clunky, and fun, I'm not interested."

Derek chewed on his lip, tossing a small ball into the air a few times and catching it before smirking.

"I know that Cheshire grin," Garcia said, smiling and pointing to him. "He has an idea."

Rossi leaned forward. "What's going through that head, Morgan?"

"The fact that we are going to take that ad campaign right out from under them."

* * *

Spencer handed Emily a 20. "You know the coffee orders, you go grab those while I talk her off the ledge and get her ready for work."

Emily raised her eyebrow. "What do you know about breakups?"

He gave her a look. "_Ethan_?"

She gasped before shaking her head. "Wow, sorry I just – I'm going to get the coffees, crawl into a hole, and then meet you down here in fifteen. Think that's enough time to calm her down?"

"Only one way to find out." He held up crossed fingers before walking into JJ's apartment building.

He paced outside of the apartment for a minute before taking a deep breath, knocking on the door. When he heard no movement inside, he was ready to call it quits and just go to work, but he knew he couldn't live with himself if JJ got fired when he could've done something to prevent it. Instead, he waited and heard her stumbling around. She finally got to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open.

"Hey, Spence," she said softly, a blanket wrapped around her.

He looked at her sympathetically. "How are you holding up?"

She sniffed, stepping aside and holding the door open. "I'm okay, I think I just need to stay home."

He took in her apartment and saw that she'd more likely than not spent the entire night on the couch. "Come on, JJ, you have to go to work."

She shook her head, sitting back on the couch.

Rolling his eyes, he walked over, pulling open the curtains. "Come on, it's a bright sunny day, there's really good coffee waiting for us downstairs, and more importantly, you are way too pretty to be cooped up in your apartment by yourself, moping."

She smiled slightly, looking up at him. "Really?"

He gave her a quick nod. "Really, now come on, go get ready. Staff meeting starts in a half hour."

She pushed herself off of the couch, walking to her room and rummaging through her closet. "What am I going to wear?"

He groaned. "For the last time, JJ, I'm not going to be _that_ gay friend. If I had a lick of fashion sense, I'd use it on myself."

She held out two shirts from the crack in her door. "Just pick one."

He glanced over at them, sighing. "The blue one will bring out your eyes."

She pulled it back in, inspecting it, before pulling it on. "I hope Strauss doesn't expect something from me at this meeting. If she does, I am _screwed_."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Emily and I could hold her off for you."

JJ stepped out of her room, sighing and wiping her eyes.

"No, no, no more crying. What's wrong?"

"I just, I miss Will."

He paused. "…You do realize that you two only dated a week, right?"

"And it might've been the best week of my life."

They emerged from the building ten minutes later and met up with Emily, taking their coffees from her.

JJ sighed, looking at her cup.

"What?" Emily asked.

She held up the cup. "Will and I went for coffee on our first date."

Spencer and Emily rolled their eyes, Spencer rubbing her back and guiding her into the cab.

As they walked into work, JJ tapped her finger against her coffee cup. "You know, Will and I had a great connection."

"…Oh?" Emily said, eyebrow raised.

She nodded. "The first time we had sex? It was so beautiful, I cried."

Spencer gave her a look. "What?"

"I was really emotional, and I told him I loved him." She groaned, tilting her head back. "I can't believe we broke up."

Emily stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for their floor. "How many times did you call him?"

JJ thought to herself, following. "I don't know, two maybe three-"

"That's not so bad," Spencer commented.

"…An hour? Besides, I know the real reason he left me."

"What's that?"

"I'm too fat."

Emily and Spencer eyed each other before saying in unison "You're _not_ fat!"

"JJ, don't worry about it, you're not alone," Spencer told her, stepping off the elevator.

"…Really?"

"Yeah, definitely. If I pulled those things with a guy I picked up? Trust me, I'd scare him away."

Emily nudged him with her elbow. "Way to be sensitive, Reid."

"What? I-" he sighed. "I'm sorry, JJ, but it's true. If I did what you did, I'd get dumped too."

"Oh, please. The douchebaggery of Ethan aside, _who_ has ever dumped you?"

He clicked his tongue, holding up a finger and thinking to himself.

"Exactly, nobody. Let's face it, if you went my way, I would snatch you up, date you, get married, and we'd have happy little nerdy children, because you are the absolute _perfect_ boyfriend and you can do no wrong."

"Hey, I can mess up," he said, trying to defend himself.

Emily rolled her eyes. "You have _never_ been the screw-up in your relationships, Reid. Just face it: JJ's right. You are the perfect boyfriend."

He scoffed, holding open the doors to the office. "Come on, we need to get to this meeting before Strauss has our heads rolling."


	2. Meeting

Spencer took a seat in a comfortable chair, while JJ and Emily took the couch. They all kicked their shoes off, leaning back. He wasn't sure why, but it was always one of Strauss's rules when they had staff meetings, so they could be completely relaxed. Personally, he didn't know how displaying his one plaid and one striped sock was going to relax anything, but he never pressed the issue.

Strauss walked in, sitting down at her desk. "Hello, everyone. Deep breath for me?"

Spencer rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out, making a face at Emily while doing so.

"Ideas, what do we have?"

One of their co-workers was pitching a bunch of godawful ideas, and Spencer had to resist the urge to outburst that everything she suggested was stupid. Instead, he sat there biting his tongue. Looking over at the couch, he saw Emily doing the same.

"Emily?"

She sat straight up, turning to face her superior. "Ma'am?"

"How's that article on lip liner comparisons coming?"

She cleared her throat. "Fantastic, I'll have the completed product to you tomorrow."

"Fantastic – now, to the person I can always rely on. Spencer, how's this month's 'how to' coming along?"

He chewed on his cheek. "It's… it's coming along great. I started this really great article on helping to promote peace in countries that are currently at war, and there are some ideas that I think would be a good direction for the magazine to take. Not to mention that's unlike anything else I've written, and-"

He was silenced by Strauss' hand being held up. "Spencer, I don't know how many times we have to go over this. We take care of what women want to hear: fashion trends, diets, cosmetic surgery, and salacious gossip. Women turn to our magazine to get _away_ from the news and the tragedies."

"But Erin-"

She shook her head. "When you write something that is an absolute must-read to our buyers, then you can write about whatever you want. Until then, you write about what I want. You'll come up with a new idea and have it to me by print."

He nodded, defeated, running a hand through his hair and listening to everyone else pitch their ideas.

Then she turned to JJ. "What do you have for me this week, Jennifer?"

JJ paused. "Um, I'm sorry, Erin, but I, I just-"

Emily interrupted. "She just got dumped."

JJ gave her a look and Emily shrugged as everyone in the room gave her sympathy.

"How are you feeling?"

She shrugged, biting down on her lip. "Okay, I guess. I haven't eaten since the break-up…"

"Good for you. Write about it."

Her eyes widened. "I- Erin, I can't use my personal life for a story, I can't."

"That's fine." JJ was relieved for a split second until Strauss spoke up again. "Who will use JJ's personal life for a story?"

One of their coworker's hands instantly shot up and JJ quickly shook her head. "No, please, Erin, I'll write about it, I just – it's none of Gina's business. It's mine and mine alone and I don't think writing about my misery is going to solve anything-"

Spencer's hand went up. "I'll do it."

JJ turned to face him, disgusted. "You'll _what_?!"

He cleared his throat. "I'll sort of do it, you know, tip toe around it, and you'll be the main inspiration behind it." He motioned toward JJ. "Look at her, she's gorgeous, she's smart, and she's fashion savvy, but the poor girl just has rotten luck with men, it's not really her fault, fate just hasn't been her friend."

"Please tell me there's a point to this," JJ said, practically glaring at him.

He nodded. "I'll start by dating a guy and slowly drive him away, _but_ I'll only use the common mistakes that women, much like JJ, make all the time in relationships. I can – I'll keep a journal of it, and it will be sort of a, I don't know, dating how-to, but in reverse?" he pitched, hoping it sounded as well out loud as it did in his head.

Strauss nodded slightly. "What _not_ to do?"

"Yeah, exactly. And it'll be an interesting label because, let's be honest, if there's something girls are interested in, it's other people's relationships, especially those _of_ men. It's the perfect plan."

Strauss pointed a finger at him. "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Yes! Go."

He paused, eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry, why ten days?"

"Five is too short and we go to press in eleven. Anyone else have anything to say?" She was silent for a few seconds before closing her folder. "I'll see you all on Friday for our next meeting. Good day all."

As they were walking out of the meeting, JJ elbowed Spencer in the side, glaring at him.

"Ow, what was that for?!"

"You're _using_ me as inspiration for how to be a ticking time-bomb in a relationship. Do tell me how that's supposed to be making me feel _any_ better?"

He rubbed his side. "It's not like that, I'm just taking all the common mistakes that women make when they're in a relationship, throwing them in a pot, pulling them out when necessary, and driving the poor guy away. Trust me, this is going to be a huge help."

JJ pointed a finger at him. "You'd better not make me look bad."

He put up his hand. "Scout's honor."

Emily laughed to herself. "Besides, Jayje, it was either him or Gina, who has permanent residence up Strauss' ass. Believe me, you dodged a bullet."

The three of them were headed back to their cubicles when they saw Strauss introducing herself to two women: a tall blonde and a darker, shorter brunette. If Spencer had to venture a guess, they were from an ad agency and trying to suck up to Strauss to get featured in the next issue. Unfortunately, they had to walk right past her to get where they needed go.

As Spencer walked by, Strauss spoke up. "And this is Spencer, he's our go-to for how-to's."

He gritted his teeth and internally groaned before turning to face them, giving them a quick wave. "Nice to meet you."

"His latest venture? He's going to find a guy, date him, and drive him away in a week in a half."

The shorter woman smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "It sounds needlessly vicious."

"Indeed." She turned to face Spencer. "What are you still doing here? You have a date to find."

"…But, Erin, it's only 2:00 in the afternoon, I wasn't planning on going out until tonight-"

Emily grabbed his arm. "What he means by that is 'thank you, Erin, I'm going to take Emily and JJ with me, have them choose an outfit considering my lack of fashion sense despite my sexuality, and bag myself a hottie'."

He looked at her, confused. "I did?"

"You did." She gave Strauss a wave before walking to her cubicle, grabbing her purse, and leading Spencer out of the building.

* * *

Emily thumbed through Spencer's closet while he and JJ sat on his bed.

JJ laid back. "You seriously have the world's comfiest bed. With everything considered, how in the world are you single?"

"Because I'm extremely awkward?" he suggested. "Plus I don't think 'I have a really comfortable bed' is a good pick-up line."

"It is if you know what you're after," Emily mumbled, looking at his shirts. "Come on, where are your fun clothes?"

"What exactly are 'fun' clothes?"

"Something that doesn't look like you just left work, and it'll make you look great." She pulled out a shirt. "Like this, why do you never wear this?"

"Because it's tight?"

"And that's why you're wearing it tonight."

He rolled his eyes. "Emily, did you not just hear me?"

"It's tight, and any man who sees you in it is going to want you."

"But the arms-"

"You'll roll up the sleeves, you'll be fine. JJ, grab one of his ties to go with it."

JJ studied the shirt then went over to the dresser, looking through and humming. "Black and skinny?" she offered, holding it up.

Emily turned to look at it and nodded. "Perfect." She eyed Spencer. "Now, tell me what it'll take for you to wear matching socks tonight."

"Sudden memory loss."

"Sometimes, you're a real pain in the ass."

He shrugged. "And yet, you stick around."

* * *

They sat in the back of the cab, on their way to a place that Emily told them would be a sure thing.

"So, what exactly are you going to do?" JJ asked.

He sighed. "I'm going to meet him tonight, make him think everything's fine and completely be myself."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "But that's not the assignment."

He put up his finger. "It will be."

Emily smirked. "You're going for a bait and switch, aren't you? Make him think he's getting normal Spencer-"

"Then when he least expects it," he snapped his fingers, "the new Spencer."

"I like it!" Emily told him, nudging him. "I expect to be first to read these notes."

He shook his head. "You're going to steal my journal if I don't let you anyway."

"When have I ever-"

"His 'how to date an older man' article when you were lusting after that guy you met… I think at this place you're taking us to."

"So, Spencer," Emily started, hoping to change the subject, "what are you going to do?"

He sighed. "I'm going to be clingy, needy-"

"Don't forget touchy-feely," Emily added. "Call him in the middle of the night and ask him what he ate that day."

"What's wrong with that?" JJ asked. The two of them turned to her and she nervously laughed. "Kidding."

They got out of the cab, walking inside. "What exactly is this place?"

"The premier watering-hole for gorgeous men."

Spencer scoffed. "Come on, Emily, that's not true."

"Oh?" she pointed around the room. "I'd say a good 47% of this room is homosexual males looking for a sweet piece of ass for the night."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not _looking_ for a night, Emily, remember? I need ten days out of the guy."


	3. Day 1

The three of them settled down at a table, Emily pointing at men as they passed by.

"What about him?"

"And I'm just supposed to avoid the ring on his finger?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She clicked her tongue. "I guess not him."

JJ set down their drinks, sitting next to Emily. "What do you even look for in a guy, Spence?"

He thought to himself, humming. "Available."

Emily snorted before clearing her throat. "I think we can make that happen."

* * *

Meanwhile, Derek sat at a table, four glasses of wine set out in front of him. He was soon joined by Hotch, Seaver, and Todd, all sitting down.

"What are you doing here, Morgan?" Seaver asked, picking up the wine glass.

He shrugged. "I'm here to help with the diamond ad campaign."

Todd rolled her eyes. "_What_ do you know about diamonds?"

"I know this would be the biggest break for Hotchner Advertising, and we wouldn't need to work for another job, because this one would put us on the map forever."

Seaver eyed Hotch. "He just wants his foot in the door so he gets credit for the campaign. He doesn't know the first thing about putting together a jewelry campaign. His last ad involved a scantily clad woman. I'm supposed to believe that someone who objectifies women to that extent knows what they want to see?"

Hotch quirked an eyebrow before looking at Derek. "She does have a point, Morgan."

Derek took a sip of his drink before setting it down, holding up a finger. "Get this. The tagline is usually 'a diamond is forever'? That's bull. I say 'a diamond is for everyone'."

Hotch looked at him, impressed. "I like it."

Todd shook her head, waving her finger. "We don't. Everyone? I'm sorry, can you just walk up to a tree and pick a diamond? Saying they're for everyone takes away the special meaning behind them – a woman isn't going to want a diamond if anyone can get one at the snap of a finger."

"Who says diamonds are _just_ for women?" Derek argued. "I wasn't aware that only straight or lesbian couples could enjoy diamonds. What if we made an open campaign to everyone?"

"Once again, we get back to the whole 'for everyone' argument we just had," Todd told him. "Diamonds are _not_ for everyone, they're a special thing."

"And can be for anyone, if you present it the right way."

Todd shook her head. "Diamonds are special, and we need to market _that_."

Hotch nodded his agreement. "I see."

"As would Derek, if he understood human emotion, which he doesn't," Seaver started.

"No man does," Todd finished. "Which is why a man couldn't possibly do this ad campaign."

Derek cleared his throat, straightening in his seat. "I understand human emotion just fine."

"Oh, do you?" Seaver said, leaning on her hand.

"Yes, I do. I can make somebody fall in love with me."

Todd scoffed. "_Love_? Please. You can have a night or have someone lust after you, but you know _nothing_ about love."

He raised an eyebrow. "Want to bet on that?"

Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms. "I think this meeting just got interesting. What are you getting at, Morgan?"

"A bet," he put plainly.

"I'm listening."

He pointed around the bar. "I can make somebody in this bar fall in love with me by the time we have to pitch the idea. I do it, I get the campaign. I don't? The wicked witches can have their way."

"You really think you could manage that?" Hotch asked him, stroking his chin.

"Absolutely."

"Then you have yourself a deal." Seaver and Todd looked ready to object, but he shook his head. "He has a valid point, ladies. Morgan, find your match."

Seaver turned behind her. "So you pick someone in here, no questions asked, he's going to be the one?"

"Exactly, ladies."

Derek leaned forward in his seat, looking around and scanning the bar.

"What about that hottie in the velvet suit?" Seaver told him, pointing to the bar area.

"Be nice, ladies," he mumbled, taking in the area.

"Don't pressure him, he's working," Hotch told them.

He saw a few more people before he heard Todd speak up. "Him."

"…Him who?" he asked, trying to follow her gaze.

She motioned toward Spencer, standing at the bar beside Emily. "_Him_." She then turned to Seaver, putting a finger to her lips.

He thought about it before nodding. "Done."

"What?"

He smirked. "I said done." He turned around to face Hotch. "After I win this bet, this pitch is mine."

"Agreed. You come to that party with a man who's really in love with you, Morgan, and the pitch is yours."

He smiled, proud of himself, before finishing off his drink and getting up from the table.

* * *

Emily pointed to a man standing at the bar. "What about him?"

"Who?" he asked, setting down his drink.

She rolled her eyes. "At three o'clock, sitting down at the bar, drinking a martini."

"Martini?" JJ said. "What, does he think he's James Bond?"

Emily shrugged. "Looks like he could play the part."

Spencer exhaled. "I'm gonna go for it."

"Godspeed!"

He rolled his eyes, walking over and sitting next to the gentleman. Shortly after, he got up, his eyes widening and glancing over at the two of them.

"What?" Emily mouthed.

He rubbed his ring finger before raising his eyebrows, walking back over and finishing his drink.

"So it went that bad?" JJ questioned.

"It was going fine, until his very pissed off wife came back from the bathroom and wondered why he was talking to me."

Emily visibly winced. "You go hunting, your next drink is on me."

* * *

He stepped away from the bar, trying to be more successful than he had been in his last four attempts. If he walked out of here without a date, not only would he fail Strauss, but he'd fail himself, and definitely still be stuck writing articles on things he couldn't care less about. He took in the area, hoping to find someone else, thinking that the fifth time might be the charm. He was about to walk into the area with tables when he bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't spill your drink, did I? I apologize, I'm not the most graceful person who ever walked this planet."

"Don't worry about it, it's fine."

He looked up and saw the person he walked into, and couldn't have been happier with his lack of coordination. Spencer was almost positive if you looked up tall, dark, and handsome in the dictionary, this man would show up, and he had the greatest smile he'd ever seen. "…Hi."

The man smirked, leaning against the wall. "Hi."

"Hi." He cursed himself, not being able to come up with a better response, shaking his head and holding out his hand. "Spencer, Spencer Reid."

He took his hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Derek Morgan."

Spencer eyed him. "Unattached?"

Derek nodded. "Currently."

He gave him a smile. "Likewise."

Derek quirked an eyebrow. "Surprising."

"Psycho?"

Derek smiled again. "Rarely. Interested?"

"Perhaps."

"Hungry?"

Spencer thought before nodding. "_Starving_."

"Leaving."

"…Now?"

"Mhm."

Spencer smirked before holding up a finger. "Okay, one second."

"I'll meet you at the door." With that, he watched Derek walk away.

Biting down on his cheek, he walked over to Emily and JJ.

"Hey, any luck?" Emily asked, setting her drink down on the bar.

"Yeah, actually. I um, I hate to leave you guys, but I'm going to head out."

JJ gave him a look. "It's going _that_ well? Who's the lucky guy?"

He groaned, looking around for Derek. "He's currently at 2:00. Don't look." He watched as both Emily and JJ turned around to see him and rolled his eyes. "I _said_ not to look!" he snapped.

"He is _cute_!" JJ commented, eyeing him again.

"Indeed. Remember, be yourself."

He nodded before taking a sip of his drink. "I'll see you two tomorrow."

"Good luck!" Emily called after him. "Be safe and call me."

He shook his head, walking out of the bar.

* * *

He saw Derek standing in front of a few cars. "You ready to go?"

"That depends on where we're going," Spencer told him as he pulled on his jacket.

"You'll see."

He shrugged, stepping toward one of the cars and pulling on the handle, surprised to find it locked.

Derek laughed softly. "That's not our mode of transportation."

"…What?"

He walked over to a motorcycle, picking up a helmet and handing one out to Spencer.

"…Excuse me?" Spencer said, eyeing it.

"This is my bike."

Spencer instantly went through the statistics of motorcycle accidents in his head and went into a panic. He really didn't want this to end his life right before doing the biggest assignment of his career.

"Come on, you ready to go for a ride, Spencer?" he asked before pulling on his helmet.

Spencer took it. "I think the question is are _you_ ready to go for a ride, Derek?" He pulled on the helmet, fastening the strap, before climbing on the motorcycle, wrapping his arms around Derek's waist as he started up the bike.

* * *

Spencer would gladly admit that he actually enjoyed the motorcycle ride once he got over his paralyzing fear of falling over. Derek ended up taking them to a restaurant for lobster, and who was he to object. Once their food was ordered and received, Spencer decided some bonding was in order.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked, picking at his food.

"I'm in advertising. I work mostly in alcoholic products and the sporting equipment industries. I'm currently trying to break into diamonds now."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Diamonds? That's definitely straying from your alcohol and sporting equipment."

Derek smirked. "What can I say? I like expanding my horizons."

"I'm sure it's not going to be that hard." Spencer took a bite of his food and sipped his water.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm sorry, do you not own a mirror?" He motioned toward Derek. "With a face like that, I'm sure you could sell ice to an Eskimo."

Derek laughed, smiling at Spencer. "Let's hope you're right, because this could be a big account for me."

Spencer held up crossed fingers. "Good luck."

"What about you?"

"…What about me?"

"What do you do for a living, Spencer Reid, other than compliment people less than an hour after meeting them?"

He smiled. "It's embarrassing, I don't want to talk about it."

"…More embarrassing than being a gay man in an industry that depends on women's bodies for advertising?" Derek asked him.

He chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's up there, believe me."

Derek shrugged. "Try me."

Spencer exhaled. "I work at a magazine – specifically, a women's magazine."

"So, you're saving the world, one shopaholic at a time?"

He scoffed. "I'll have you know I have a master's degree in journalism from Columbia, my boss loves me, and if I do what she says for a while? I'll be able to write about whatever I want. I just need to go easy and hold back."

"And what is it you want to write about?"

Spencer grinned. "I don't know, maybe alcohol and sporting equipment."

Derek shook his head. "If you go down that road, I'd be glad to help you."

He straightened in his seat, wiping his hands on the napkin. "Question for you."

"Go for it."

"True or false: all is fair in love and war."

Derek considered it for a minute before nodding. "True."

Spencer smiled. "Great answer."

"Good question."

* * *

Once Derek paid the check, he looked over at Spencer. "I don't know your schedule or if you have the time, but would you like to come back to my place for a while? We could talk, get to know each other a little better."

Spencer thought about it before nodding. "Sounds great. How far away do you live?"

"Just a few blocks. We'll be there in no time with my bike." Derek led him outside and before mounting his bike, turned to him. "You're not allergic to dogs or anything, are you?"

He shook his head. "No, not at all. I've just never had a pet so I'm not sure how a dog would handle my presence."

"Clooney's nothing but a lover, you'll be fine."

Spencer paused, helmet in hand. "I'm sorry, you named your dog _Clooney_?"

"Yes, and if you need a reason why? Google George Clooney."

Spencer laughed to himself before pulling on the helmet, tightening it and getting on the bike.

* * *

They got into the elevator at Derek's apartment building, Derek pressing the button for the fourth floor.

"How often do you take the elevator?" Spencer asked, leaning against the rail.

Derek shrugged. "Whenever I don't feel like taking the stairs. I go to the gym on my lunch every day, so a lot of days, I'm too tired to do the stairs."

"…_Every day_?"

"It's a good way to work off any pent-up aggression."

"Advertisement aggression? Are you upset that somebody beat you to 'got milk?'."

Derek smirked. "Something like that." He stepped off the elevator and walked to his apartment, unlocking the door.

Spencer walked inside and almost instantly had a dog running up to him, sniffing him and running around his feet.

"Clooney, Spencer. Spencer, Clooney. He's a lover, he's a farter, and he's part-pit but the farthest thing from a fighter you'll ever see."

He pulled off his jacket and knelt down, running his fingers through the dog's fur and smiling when he rolled onto his back. After scratching his stomach a few times, he stood up, clearing his throat. "Where's your bathroom?"

Derek whistled to distract Clooney then looked at Spencer. "It's right down the hall, second door on the left."

Spencer gave him a nod to thank him before walking down the hall, going into the bathroom and closing the door.

* * *

Derek looked around his apartment and took out several candles, lighting them and setting them around his bedroom. He turned on some music as he lit more candles, displaying them in several places to light the small room and highlight the bed. Sitting on the bed, he thought of his actions before sighing.

"_Love_, not lust." He walked around, blowing out the candles and turning the music off, before grabbing a few beers from the kitchen and putting them on his dresser.

Meanwhile, Spencer leaned against the sink, taking out his phone, calling Emily.

"So did you get some?" she said, answering the phone.

He rolled his eyes. "_No_, but I'm definitely thinking this could work. I have this assignment in the bag."

"Oh, so he's that good?"

"I don't know, but Emily, I really can't talk. I just wanted to call and let you know that I'm alive and he's not an axe murderer."

She laughed. "I appreciate the gesture. Why can't you talk?"

"I'm in his apartment," he said, keeping his voice down.

She gasped. "Spencer Reid, I didn't know you were so easy. I want details tomorrow morning, or I swear-"

"It's not going to happen," he snapped. "I have to go." He hung up, putting his phone in his pocket, before taking a deep breath and walking out, finding Derek in his bedroom.

* * *

He took the beer that Derek offered him before sitting on the bed, Derek leaning against the dresser. Spencer patted the spot beside him, trying to beckon Derek over, but he found him doing the same thing. Admitting defeat, Spencer rolled his eyes, walking over and sitting next to him. After taking a quick sip of his drink, he set it down, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Derek pulled back, holding up a finger. "We shouldn't go too fast," he whispered.

Spencer nodded slightly before Derek closed the gap between him, capturing his lips and kissing him hungrily. He pulled back, exhaling. "We're going too fast. You're right, it's too fast," he said quickly.

Derek nodded. "Okay."

Before long, Spencer pulled him in for another kiss, missing how he tasted in the few seconds they'd been apart.

They pulled apart again, both admitting that they were moving too fast in that moment.

"I want you to respect me," Spencer told him, looking him in the eyes.

"I do," Derek said quickly.

Spencer smiled. "Good."

"…And I want your respect," Derek whispered, leaning in closer.

"… I respect your respect of me," Spencer reasoned.

Derek smirked. "I respect that."

"Good." Spencer gave him another kiss before sighing. "I should get going, I have an early morning at work tomorrow." He kissed Derek's cheek. "Give me your phone so I can give you my number."

Derek took his phone out of his pocket, holding it out to him. Spencer typed in his number, calling it and saving it to contacts, before calling Derek on his own phone.

"All good?"

Spencer nodded. "All good." He stood up, taking another sip of his beer. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Bet on it."

Spencer walked out to the living room, pulling on his jacket and leaving his wallet on the table, smiling to himself, leaving and taking the stairs. He was outside hailing a cab when he heard Derek calling his name. He expected to find him hanging out of a window. Instead, Derek was standing on the fire escape, leaning against the railing.

"Good night, Spencer Reid," he yelled down, leaning on his elbows.

Spencer laughed to himself, waving as the taxi pulled up. "Sweet dreams."

Derek grinned, shifting his weight. "You are already falling in love with me," he whispered to himself.

Before getting into the cab, Spencer blew him a kiss, smirking. "I'm gonna make you wish you were dead. Poor guy." He got into the cab, closing the door and giving his address, ready to get a good night's sleep and prepare for what was coming next.


	4. Day 2

Derek sat at his desk, the wallet in front of him.

"How did it go last night?" Rossi asked, walking in and setting his jacket on the back of his chair.

"I found him."

Garcia ran in. "You what?" She walked over to his desk, sitting on the edge. "Do tell me everything, and I mean _everything_."

He smiled. "His name is Spencer, he's thirty, he's a writer, and he's pretty much the best guy I've ever met at that bar."

"Picture?"

He put a finger up, going through his phone. When he landed on a picture, he held it out to her.

She gasped. "He is absolutely scrumptious. You roped him in, just like that?" she said, snapping her fingers.

He nodded. "Just like that. Now, I need him to stick around for ten days."

Rossi quickly shrugged. "It shouldn't be too hard, though that is nine days longer than you've spent with any other man."

Derek put a hand over his heart. "That one hurts. I think I have it in me, though. I'm gonna come out fighting, and, hands down, I can do it."

Rossi gave him a look. "Hands down?"

"Point is, he's already on the ropes."

Garcia put up her hands. "I may work in sporting equipment and alcoholic beverages, but that was _way_ too many sports terms."

"Sorry, princess."

She pointed to the wallet on his desk. "What's that?"

"His wallet… he left it at my apartment last night."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Apartment? As in-"

"As in we stopped in for a drink, traded numbers, and he had to go home for an early day of work this morning."

"…Did you look?" she reached over, grabbing it and inspecting it. "It's cheap, so he might not be that good of a writer."

"He's actually got master's from Columbia," he said, taking it back and putting it on the desk. "Do I, Rossi?"

"…It could have his credit cards," he reasoned. "He's going to need those. Not to mention he probably left it to ensure that you'd have to call him back today."

"That's true-"

"_But_ it's an invasion of privacy," Garcia quickly added.

Rossi walked over to his desk. "Kitten has a point, I mean, he could have things in there you don't want to see," he started, leaning against the desk, then reaching over and flipping it open. "But if it just so _happens_ to open."

Garcia rolled her eyes. "Smooth."

Derek leaned forward on his elbows. "Well, if Rossi busted it open, I have to look through to make sure everything's still in place."

Garcia sighed. "I'm not a part of this. You two enjoy, I'll enjoy from a distance." She sat in the chair adjacent to his desk, resisting the urge to peek over.

In the meantime, Derek looked through the contents. There were a few credit cards, his ID, some cash, and there was an envelope poking out at the top. Raising an eyebrow, he reached in, taking it out. "What do you suppose this is?"

"No markings on the front, so it's either something he's mailing out, or something he received," Rossi deduced. "Only one way to find out."

"And you wonder why you have three divorces? You have _no_ sense of respect for privacy," Garcia told him.

He shrugged. "Maybe fourth time is the charm."

Derek laughed, taking the envelope out and opening it, his eyes lighting up. "Lady and gentleman, we have," he took them out, "_two_ tickets to tonight's game of the Stanley Cup Finals."

"As in the ones you waited up all night hoping to get?" Garcia asked.

He nodded. "The very same… it looks like I have some charming to do."

* * *

Meanwhile, Emily leaned against the wall of Spencer's cubicle. "Let me get this straight. You got to know him, you made out with him _a lot_, you were _right there_, and you didn't sleep with him?"

JJ pointed at Emily. "I'm with her. One look at that guy and anyone on this planet would be in his bed."

He shrugged. "What can I say? I didn't want to give it out the first night and have _that_ attachment already. I want this assignment to go as smoothly as possible, no strings."

"Yeah, with him looking like that? Good luck."

He shook his head. "It's _not_ about sex. It's about him getting to know me as I am right now, so when he calls me, I can make a date, and I'll flip the switch."

JJ held up a finger. "One question, how is he going to know to call you?"

He grinned. "Because I left my wallet there last night with my tickets to tonight's game inside."

"That's it?" Emily asked. "He's not going to go through your wallet."

"You'd be surprised, considering I left the envelope sticking out."

JJ shook her head. "Best of luck."

* * *

A while later, Gina walked up to Spencer's desk. "There's a delivery for you at the front desk."

He raised an eyebrow, going through his e-mail. "I didn't order anything, can you just have them send it back and I'll check it out?"

"… Are you sure?"

"Yes?"

She walked away and a few minutes later, three deliverymen carried several boxes over to his desk, setting them down.

"What did you order, and are you sharing?" Emily said.

He mock laughed, picking up the card off the top of the box and reading it.

JJ yanked it out of his hand. "'_To Spencer: the man who doesn't have to try to be perfect'._ That is so sweet!"

He rolled his eyes, scoffing. "He's in advertising, he does this for a living."

"So he's a professional ass-kisser?" Emily asked, opening the top box and gasping. "Chocolate covered strawberries, can I have one?"

"Judging by the fact that I have several dozen boxes? Take a box." He thought before pointing a finger. "He found the tickets."

"…So you think he's doing this for your extra ticket?"

"Exactly, but I already promised it to Emily-"

Emily put up her hand. "If it means you getting your work done, you can take me to another game. Though I'm not putting out at that one either."

* * *

Spencer was in the middle of typing up his notes from the night before when his phone started ringing. He reached over, picking it up and resting it against his shoulder. "Spencer Reid."

"Hello there, Spencer Reid."

He smiled to himself. "You know, I just got a really embarrassing delivery of a dozen dozens of chocolate covered strawberries in bright boxes."

"What can I say? I know how to take care of people."

"Oh, I'm sure." He took one out of the box, biting into it. "It's a little early for you to be calling. Do you miss me that much already?"

"Not quite. Listen, I found your wallet at my apartment last night. That's not something you want to be leaving around."

He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. "No, wow, sorry. I can't believe I forgot that. When can I pick it up?"

"I don't know, but it's something you're going to want to grab, considering you have the cash, credit cards, ID, and those uh, tickets to tonight's Stanley Cup Finals game."

Spencer put his hand over the phone, eyeing Emily and mouthing 'the tickets'. "Derek, did you go through my wallet?"

"Me? Of course not. My boy, Rossi, he's a total klutz and dropped it, it just popped open."

Spencer heard him being elbowed, followed by 'yeah, I'm sorry.'. "So, when can you meet me to give me back my wallet?"

"How about tonight at the game?"

He rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I already have plans with my friend Emily."

"No, I don't think so, Pretty Boy."

He laughed. "_Pretty Boy_?"

"I call it like I see it, and let's be honest. Subconsciously, you were absolutely dying to take me to that game with you. You left your wallet so you'd have me call you and talk about them, and you want to _beg_ me to come with you for some good company."

"…Does that ridiculous babble actually work on anybody?" Spencer asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I don't know, you tell me."

He took a deep breath, sighing. "Alright, meet me at 7:00, don't be late."

He raised his fist in victory. "You've got it. Bye."

"Bye." Spencer hung up, smirking. "And _that's_ how it's done."

Derek turned to Garcia and Rossi. "And that's how it's done."

* * *

Before leaving work that day, JJ looked at Spencer. "So, what's in the plans for ruining Derek's life tonight?"

"JJ, I'm not ruining his life. I'm just, slowly but surely, driving him away. Do you remember how you and Will went to see that movie, and you sent him out to get you a soda right when they hit the climax?" Emily opened her mouth but Spencer held up his finger. "We're not teenagers, we don't need that joke."

"Okay, so you're going to send him out when the game is getting good?"

He nodded. "And when he thinks everything's secure? I'll do it again."

"Evil genius," Emily mumbled, pulling her jacket on.

"This evil genius is going to be the next big thing after he writes this article," he pointed out, putting his bag over his shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date to get ready for."

"Have fun, and remember, don't put out until the third date," Emily called after him.

* * *

He was able to meet up with Derek, picking up his wallet and apologizing for his stupidity, though judging by Derek wearing a jersey, he was more than okay with the situation. Derek led the two of them into the game, well before puck drop.

"So, are you regularly a hockey fan?" Derek asked, holding out the popcorn to him.

Spencer took some, shrugging. "I'm just getting into it, to be completely honest. I used to watch basketball, and I'd spend time breaking down the teams' shooting strategies. I ended up getting kicked out of pools because everyone realized I was hustling them."

"_You_ hustling people?"

He smiled, chewing on his popcorn and swallowing. "You'd be surprised. I'm capable of _a lot_ of things."

"And I'd be happy to find out what those are."

"Oh, I'm sure you would."

* * *

While the game was going on, Derek had bought them a couple of beers. Spencer was thoroughly enjoying the game, and picked up on it much faster than basketball.

"Do you get the game?" Derek asked, leaning in.

He quickly nodded. "And if they pull the goalie, they get an extra player on the ice, but that leaves the net empty, correct?"

"Look at you catching on," Derek said, nudging his arm.

"What can I say? I'm a quick study," he whispered, raising his eyebrows, before turning back to the game.

Derek groaned loudly, throwing his hands up. "What the hell is that?!"

"When did it become legal to have a player land and physically _sit_ on the goalie, because I have to say, I do _not_ remember reading about that."

"No, it isn't."

"Come on, refs, are you _not_ going to call that?!" Spencer yelled, pointing at the ice. "It's ridiculous."

Derek smirked, looking at him. "You're liking this aren't you?"

"You could say that."

During one of the time outs, the stadium started playing kiss cam footage.

"…You can't be serious," Spencer said, looking up at it.

Derek nodded. "Happens every once in a while, just to kill some time while they're cleaning up the ice."

The two of them watched as two couples kissed: a much older couple, and two people who seemed to be college students. The camera turned to them and Spencer shook his head. "Oh, come on."

"I think we have to do it, everyone's watching and cheering. We can't exactly let down an entire stadium of sports fans. That would just be wrong."

Spencer turned to face him, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. After several cheers from the crowd, he pulled back, blushing.

* * *

Spencer checked his watch, realizing that he had to act now. With three minutes left on the clock, he bit his lip, turning to Derek. "Hey, Derek," he said softly, nudging his arm.

"Hm? Yeah?" he said, distracted by the game.

"I'm… I'm really thirsty, can you please go get me a drink?"

"…Right now? There's only three minutes left."

He nodded. "Please, Derek? I'm really thirsty." He saw the look on Derek's face and shook his head. "Nevermind, I'll go get it."

He started getting up, but Derek put his hand on his knee. "You want it right now? I've got it."

"No ice, Derek," Spencer noted. "Thank you."

Derek ran out to the concession stand, trying to keep an eye on the TV screens all around to still watch the game. The employee was taking entirely too long just filling up the cup, and then realized he'd requested no ice, dumping it out and starting again. Once it was finally filled, he threw a five on the counter before grabbing the cup and running back inside, handing it to Spencer.

"Thank you," Spencer told him, smiling and taking a sip.

Derek nodded, his attention instantly shifting back to the game.

Spencer thought to himself before holding out the drink to him. "Derek, it's not a diet."

"…Excuse me?"

"Derek, it's not diet. Please? I'm so thirsty."

He eyed the cup, then the clock, sighing. "Be right back." He got up, running back outside. Spencer did feel slightly bad, but he shrugged it off, sipping the drink. The game winning goal was shot just seconds later, and the crowd erupted in applause. Spencer celebrated with the people sitting around him before getting out of the row, walking out to the concession stand and patting Derek's arm.

"Did you see it?! It was _great_."

He nodded slightly, motioning toward the TV and handing him his soda.

"Thank you," Spencer said, walking outside with him.

* * *

Spencer held out his hand, hoping to hail a cab. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"Good game, great bonding time, and I got to show off the fact that I got someone like you to say yes to dating?" Derek started. "I'd say yes, it's definitely a great night."

"I'm sorry you missed the game winning goal."

Derek shrugged. "There'll be other ones, I'm sure. Can I call you tomorrow?"

Spencer stepped over as a cab stopped. "I think I'd be okay with that," he told him, opening the door. "Good night."

He leaned in, kissing his cheek. "Good night, Spencer."

He smiled, getting into the cab and giving his address. He rolled down the window, winking at Derek. "See you soon."

Considering how he'd ruined a hockey game for an obvious fan, he had to wonder how long it'd be before he could successfully drive him away.


	5. Day 3

Derek walked into his weekly meeting, taking a seat between Rossi and Garcia. He saw Seaver and Todd across the table, whispering, and gave them a quick wave, smirking.

"So how was the date the other night?" Garcia asked, taking a bright pink pen out of her bag and setting it on top of her notebook.

He smiled. "It went great. He brought me to the hockey game, ended up on the kiss cam, and he's going to call me later so we can make plans for tonight."

"How long has it been for you two now?"

He clicked his tongue. "Today is day number three."

"And how's it going?" Rossi asked, adjusting his seat.

"Surprisingly well."

Hotch walked in and the room went quiet: he was holding their latest assignments and everyone knew what was coming. He walked around the room, throwing down the folders in front of their respective owners. "Crap, crap, and even more crap. To be completely honest, I expected a lot better from my top teams." He sat down at the head of the table. "Come on, you've got to do a lot better than this. I _know_ you're capable of better." He looked around the room. "Anyone?"

Todd put up her hand. "I have something for the diamonds campaign, if Derek's latest plan happens to go awry."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm your boss, not your babysitter. Can you all stop bickering at each other and focus?"

There was a knock on the door and everyone's attention shifted.

"Derek, you have a call on line two."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm in a meeting, can you take a message for me?"

"I would, but… it's Spencer."

He shot a smirk over at Seaver and Todd before turning back to her. "I'll take it in here, thank you."

He then looked over at Hotch, who gave him a nod of approval. "Make it quick."

He picked up the phone, pressing on line one and sitting down. "Hey, Spencer."

"It's me!" Spencer said loudly, setting his drink down and sitting between Emily and JJ. He watched as Emily had to hold back a laugh.

"Yes it is, listen… I'm in the middle of a meeting, can I call you back in just a minute?" he shifted in the chair, trying to avoid the gaze of his coworkers.

"I really miss you, Smootiekins," he said, pouting.

JJ gasped, biting down on her lip and covering her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Well you know what? I miss you too," he whispered, hoping not to get everyone's attention but ultimately failing.

"Mhm. You busy tonight?"

He looked over at Hotch, who was motioning for him to wrap it up so they could get back to their meeting. He thought quickly before putting a finger up, indicating just one more minute. "No, I'm not. Why don't we catch a movie or something?"

"A movie? My choice?"

He nodded. "Your choice."

Spencer stirred his drink. "Oh I'm _so_ excited. Okay! I'll call you later."

"Bye," Derek responded, a smile on his face.

"Bye!"

Derek hung up, turning his attention back to the meeting and smiling. "Sorry about that, you know how it is, having someone fall in love with you." He looked over at Seaver and Todd. "Right, ladies?" When they both said nothing, he smirked, taking his seat between Garcia and Rossi again.

* * *

Spencer took a sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair. "I have a movie date tonight."

"So what are you seeing?"

"I have _no_ idea, but I'm definitely not taking him to something interesting, that would just make him fall in love with me, which to be honest, is the exact opposite of what we want here. I need something heartbreaking, something emotional, something-"

"Like Titanic re-showing at the movie theater tonight?" Emily said, turning her laptop to face him.

He sat up, reading the page and smiling. "Just like Titanic. You're the best, Emily."

"Just remember me after you make it big," she told him, winking.

"So that's it?" JJ asked him. "You're just going to take him to a gushy romantic movie and expect him to be put off?"

He put up a finger. "Au contraire, he's going to a romantic movie with a very talkative Spencer, who is going to avoid the wonderful cartoon at the beginning advising you not to talk out of respect to other patrons. Let's be honest, who's not put off by someone talking at the movies?"

JJ put up her hand. "Me?"

"That's because you're usually the one doing the talking," Emily noted.

* * *

That night, Spencer met Derek at the theater, and after Derek bought their snacks, they walked in and got a few seats toward the back, requiring Spencer to put on his glasses.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," Derek said, looking over at him.

Spencer shrugged. "It's not something I advertise. I usually only wear them when I'm reading or at the movies."

"It's a good look for you," Derek told him, running his fingers through his hair. "You should try it more often."

He smiled slightly before taking the popcorn from him, leaning back in the seat and eating a few pieces.

* * *

During the movie, Spencer was eating the popcorn, keeping an eye on the movie.

"God, this is such an emotional scene," he said out loud, reaching in for more popcorn. "There's just so much to it."

Derek gave him a nod, leaning in and whispering. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"This movie, it's just, it's the greatest love story of all time. I don't know why people are always talking about Romeo and Juliet – Jack and Rose is so much more beautiful and heartbreaking, you know?"

"Mhm, I know."

"Shh!" came a voice behind them and Spencer rolled his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" he inquired, facing Derek.

"Nothing, I'm watching the movie," Derek said softly, pointing to the screen.

The voice behind them cleared his throat, but Spencer ignored him.

"Yeah, but what's on your _mind_?"

"…I like this movie."

"So, your mind is a complete blank?" Spencer guessed. "Who is he?" he finished, speaking louder.

"Who's who?"

"The other guy you're thinking about right now."

"Can't hear!" the voice snapped.

"I'm not thinking about another guy," Derek quickly told him.

"Please, you can't watch a young Leonardo DiCaprio for over three hours and not be thinking about somebody else. Come on!"

Derek straightened in his seat, clearing his throat. "Okay, you want to know what I'm thinking about?"

"…Yes."

"I'm sitting here, thinking about how _great_ those glasses make you look, bringing out how great looking you already are. That's what I'm thinking about." He motioned toward the screen again. "Come on, let's watch the movie, it's getting good, he's talking her off the ledge."

"Oh, Derek!" he practically squealed, leaning over and wrapping his arms around him. "I love sharing this experience with you so much."

"Yeah," Derek said, hoping to end the conversation and concentrate on the movie.

"Can't hear _and_ can't see!" the voice shouted at them.

Spencer groaned, turning around to face him, instantly realizing that the man was much bigger than Derek. He had to act quickly and looked him in the eyes. "If you don't shut up and let us enjoy Titanic in our own way, my boyfriend, this guy right here?" he started, pointing to Derek. "Is going to come back there and pummel your ass for being so disruptive."

"Why don't you put a muzzle on your little boy-toy before you bring him out in public?" he snapped, leaning forward and eyeing Derek.

"What?!" Spencer snapped. "What is that? Do something."

The man stood up, and both of them took in his size. "You, _outside_."

Spencer heard several yells coming from other patrons and knew he might've taken it a few steps too far, especially when he saw the look in Derek's eyes. Surprisingly, Derek got up, leading Spencer outside the theater, the bigger man in front of them.

* * *

"Can't you just have a little bit of class, man?" Derek started, following him out of the lobby. "You want to talk like that to me, whatever, we can work it out, but don't talk like that to him."

"Derek," Spencer stammered, grabbing his arm and turning him around. "He's _huge_."

"I've got it," Derek reassured him. "I'm not about to get in a fight with the guy, okay? He owes you an apology for interrupting your movie."

Before Spencer could say anything to respond, the man swung at Derek, hitting him in the face and knocking him against the wall. His eyes widened, reaching over and wrapping his arms around Derek, sliding down the wall and hoping to minimize the impact. "Whoa, are you okay?"

"I'm going back inside and finish my movie. Nobody screw with me."

At that, the man turned back into the lobby and left. Were he not in this current situation, Spencer would've enjoyed a laugh at the man getting so visibly upset about missing the movie he was on the brink of tears. Instead, he looked down at Derek, running his hand over his head. "Derek? Are you okay?"

"Son of a _bitch_," he muttered, rubbing his cheek.

"Derek, maybe we should get you to a hospital or something, he hit you pretty hard."

"No, no, no, no, _no_," Derek insisted, leaning his head on his shoulder. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine, you could have a concussion or something." He turned back to the concession stand. "Excuse me, can I get some ice out here please?"

One of the attendants walked over with a few napkins and a cup of ice. He poured some ice into one of the napkins, holding it against Derek's cheek and wincing at how red it already was.

Derek hissed at the cold, but held it against his face. All Spencer could do was reach over, rubbing the back of his head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't need to be a macho man, you know. If that hurts, you can tell me, I'm not going to think less of you."

He shook his head. "It's nothing, really."

Spencer stood up, holding out a hand. "In that case, Rocky, let's get you home."

"I'm content staying down here," he said with a shrug.

"Uh huh, if you stay another two hours, you're going to get trampled by swarms of emotional women who had to watch Leonardo DiCaprio die and his body sink into a freezing cold grave. You sure about that?"

"…Definitely not." He took Spencer's outstretched hand, pulling himself up.

* * *

The two of them shared a cab, just so Spencer could be sure Derek wasn't going to pass out from the pain. Like every other man he'd dated, he was putting up a front that he was fine, though on the drive, he could see the area getting more red and irritated.

"When you get in, can you please put some ice on that and take something for the pain?" Spencer said as they pulled up to Derek's apartment building.

"Yes, mother," he said, paying the driver and turning to Spencer. "So, I'll call you in the morning?"

"Sounds great."

Derek leaned in, placing a soft kiss against his lips, before getting out, closing the door.

Once Spencer saw he was inside, he gave the driver his address and groaned, tilting his head back and running a hand over his face. He was three days into his assignment and making progress, but he had no clue how to get it to the breaking point.


	6. Day 4

The next day, Derek had taken Garcia's offer to meet him at the park for lunch. He was waiting for about ten minutes before she walked up to him, looking at his face and visibly wincing.

"Ouch!" she said, resting her hand on his chin and getting a closer look. "How the hell did you manage that? I thought you were going to see Titanic last night."

"Yeah, little did I know some man the size of the Titanic would be sitting behind us and then proceed to swing at me for Spencer and I talking during the movie," he explained, walking with her.

"You know what though? You shouldn't feel bad."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "If I had a nickel for every time I got a guy knocked out at a chick flick? I'd be rolling in the dough."

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Uh-huh, _right._ It really wasn't that bad though, all things considered."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"No, I mean, the getting punched in the face part sucked. It really did suck, because the guy was huge."

"Well, yeah, of course."

"But the getting taken care of after the hit? That was nice. He got me ice, checked on it, debated taking me to the hospital, and made sure I made it home okay."

She gave him a look. "So, you're going to willingly get punched out by huge men so your skinny little boyfriend can take care of you afterward?"

"Oh, definitely not." They walked through the park, eating hot dogs. "Do you want me to tape the game for you tonight?"

"Absolutely no need for that, though thanks for the offer. I'll be watching the game from the comfort of my own home tonight."

"…How'd you swing that? I thought you two had a date."

"I do, and I have to thank David Rossi for our plans."

She paused before pointing a finger at him. "You're totally taking after his cooking lesson and making the lamb dinner tonight, aren't you?"

"Voila. _This_ is going to be my ticket to head-over-heels love. Everyone loves a guy who can cook."

"We'll see about that," she said, patting his arm. "Now, come on, you get to explain to everyone in the office that you were knocked out at Titanic."

* * *

Spencer took his lunch order out of his bag, opening up his sandwich and groaning. "They _always_ forget my bacon, never fail. If I ask for a _bacon_ cheeseburger, why would I want no bacon?"

Emily shook her head. "I can't believe you got that guy knocked out. Can we just focus on that for a minute?"

"It was only for a few seconds," he defended. "And he was the most adorable unconscious man ever," he said, laughing softly and putting his legs up.

"…Are you dating him, or are you contemplating adoption?" JJ asked him, eating her salad.

They all shared a laugh, but straightened up when they saw Strauss walking up to Spencer's cubicle.

"Spencer, your notes on this piece are fantastic."

He chewed the food in his mouth. "…Thank you, Erin."

"And when are you seeing him again? I can't wait to read more."

He thought to himself. "Tonight, he invited me over for dinner. He's cooking."

"Marvelous – I've got a good feeling about this article, you may be going places."

"…Thanks, Erin," he called after her, watching her walk away.

JJ rubbed her temple. "I really hate it when she just pops her head in like that. It's kind of terrifying."

Emily nodded her agreement but Spencer shrugged. "I never noticed it."

Strauss walked up behind JJ, clearing her throat. "I heard that."

After she walked away, Emily turned to Spencer. "Any other plans for tonight besides dinner?"

"You'll see in my notes tomorrow."

* * *

Derek had been cooking for a couple of hours when there was a knock on the door. He finished stirring a bowl and moved it, setting it on the counter. "Come on in, the door's open," he called out, checking the oven.

"Hi," Spencer called out.

"Hey, there. I hope you brought your appetite, because I've prepared a feast for two."

Spencer walked into the apartment, noticing the table all set up, ready for a romantic, candlelit dinner. "Isn't that so sweet?" he said, looking over at the TV and seeing it already on for the game tonight.

"Feel free to pour yourself a glass of wine," Derek told him, checking his watch, "dinner will be ready in about five, and puck drop should be in about eight."

"Great, I'm _starving_." He set a box down on Derek's dresser, taking out several stuffed animals and lining them up. He also took the time to redecorate the bathroom and the rest of his bedroom, as well as changing all of the CDs in his player.

Derek took the pan out of the oven, lifting off the lid and checking the food. He took in the scent and grabbed a knife, slicing open the lamb and smiling, proud of himself. He heard Spencer talking in the other room, but all of his focus was on finishing dinner. Setting the plate on the counter, he picked up his wine glass, putting it on the table.

"Great, we've got about two minutes until game time."

While Spencer was playing some of his music, Derek had time to take in some of the changes Spencer made, including framed photos of himself, magazines, and teddy bears.

"These changes are… interesting. And I saw the new comforter. Pink isn't exactly my color, but I think maybe I can make it work."

Spencer smirked, turning down the music.

"What's in the box?" Derek asked, pointing to it.

"It's a little fern," Spencer explained, picking it up and walking over.

"Really?"

"It's just like our relationship," he started. "A helpless little baby, in need of tender loving care."

Derek eyed it before setting it down on the table. "Thank you." He turned off the music, turning on the volume of the TV and pulling out Spencer's chair. "Have a seat."

Spencer sat down, pulling his chair in.

"Game two, welcome to the front row," Derek said, handing him his napkin. He tucked it into the front of his shirt while Derek brought the food over, setting it down in front of him.

"Dinner is served: chef's special tonight. We have lamb with a cherry glaze." Picking up the tongs, he grabbed a piece, setting it on Spencer's plate. "And a few carrots…" he saw Spencer's face change, getting visibly upset. "Are you okay?" he asked, rubbing his back.

Spencer nodded, swallowing. "It's beautiful," he said softly.

"…Thanks?"

"You're beautiful… the game, and this whole thing?" He paused before sighing. "I wish I ate meat."

Derek's face fell and he stood up, chewing on his cheek and trying not to lash out. After all, he and Spencer had never discussed the topic of vegetarianism, and he shouldn't have just assumed it was something he liked.

Spencer handed him the plate. "Please just take it away before I get sick."

He took the plate from Spencer's hands, setting it on the counter.

After a few minutes of researching online, Derek was able to find a vegetarian restaurant not far from his apartment. He set the DVR to record the game and turned to Spencer. "Come on, we're going out to dinner."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "But what about this? You spent all of your time cooking. I'll just – I'll eat the potatoes and carrots, it's fine."

"No, you deserve a dinner that you'll actually enjoy, not side dishes. Now come on."

* * *

Spencer got up, pulling on his jacket, and once Derek had fed Clooney, they were going to the restaurant. He had Derek order their food while he went into the back, excusing himself and saying he was going to the bathroom. In reality, he had the kitchen staff making him some actual food and was periodically checking the score of the game on their small TV.

Derek poked his fork around in the food, making a face. "This food is for animals, how the hell does he eat this every day?" He took a bite before shaking his head, taking a sip of his water.

Spencer took the seat beside him, starting to eat his rice.

"Everything okay?"

He paused, wondering why he was asking, before giving him a nod. "I'm fine, it's nothing."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

Derek looked up at the waitress. "Excuse me, ma'am? Do you happen to know the score of the game right now?"

She scoffed. "'Do I _look_ like I'd know the score of a hockey game?"

"No, you don't."

She then looked over at Spencer. "Is something wrong with your dinner?"

He shook his head. "No, no, not at all." He then found it in himself to get upset and sighed. "My boyfriend thinks I'm fat, that's all."

Derek's hands shot up and his eyes widened. "Whoa, what?"

"And I just – I can't eat in front of him." He got up, throwing down his napkin. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"I don't think you're-" he started, watching Spencer walk away. He then looked at the waitress. "I don't think he's fat. I mean, come on, look at him."

She gave him a look before walking away, leaving several diners at the restaurant to stare at him in disgust.

Spencer watched behind him and turned into the kitchen at the last second. "What's happening?" he asked, picking up a burrito and biting into it.

"23 seconds left in the game, we've got the puck, we're tied and it's looking like overtime."

He bit into it and kept a close eye on the game. He saw an easy goal being missed and groaned, shaking his head.

"Get the puck back, come _on_!" he yelled at the TV. "Damnit!" He watched as the clock ran down and the other team scored a goal. Shaking his head and finishing his burrito, he patted one of their backs. "Next game, we've got it."

* * *

Derek sat at the table, salting his food, hoping to give it some flavor. He wasn't sure what the hell he'd just experienced, but it was not something he wanted to happen again. He had to come up with a new strategy if he was going to get Spencer to fall in love with him and get the job he desperately needed.

When Spencer walked back out, he paid the bill and the two of them went outside, getting on his motorcycle. Stepping into his apartment, Derek set down the motorcycle helmets.

"Well that was fun," Spencer said, closing the door behind him.

Derek nodded. "Okay, 11:25, they should be playing sports highlights," he said, reaching for the remote and turning the TV, sitting down on the couch. "There we are."

"Sorry we missed the game," Spencer said, sitting down on the couch.

Derek was oblivious, keeping an eye on the highlights. "Come on, come on, we just need a goal to avoid overtime."

Spencer groaned, putting up his hands. "I can't believe we missed that shot."

"You're right there, shoot!" he shouted out, aggravated, before turning to Spencer. "How the hell did you know we were going to miss that shot?"

"…He always misses that shot when he's at a right angle of the goalie," he quickly tried to rationalize.

Derek raised an eyebrow, sitting beside him. "He never misses that shot."

Spencer knew he had to act quickly or raise suspicion with Derek. He reached over, resting a hand on the inside of his leg, before leaning on top of him, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Does the princess want to come out and play?" he asked, kissing down his chest.

Derek looked at him, confused. "…And who's the princess?"

Spencer pointed at his crotch before ripping the buttons off of his shirt, scraping his hand down his chest.

"No, no, no, no, _no_," Derek pleaded. "You're kidding me, right? Of all the names out there, considering you've never seen it before, you call it the _princess_?"

Spencer shrugged. "Little or big? I don't know, we'll see."

Derek shook his head, resting his hands on Spencer's arms and sitting up. "Hang on. No, no, no," he repeated, standing up. "Listen, you can't name my equipment _princess_, it doesn't…"

"Yes, I can," Spencer told him, arms around one of the teddy bears on the couch.

"Listen, just listen to me, if you're going to name my, my _member_, okay, it has to be something hyper-masculine, not something demeaning like princess. Something like, I don't know, Hercules or Spike or Thor, but not _princess_."

"…What did you just say?"

"Hercules? You see what I mean?"

"No, no, after Hercules."

"Spike?"

He shook his head. "After Spike."

"Thor, you know, the God of Thunder, Thor."

Spencer smirked. "Does Thor, God of Thunder want to come out and play tonight?"

"No, I'm not thinking so," Derek said, sighing. "You know what? Due to humiliation, I think Thor has decided on a clear night tonight."

Spencer pouted. "Uh oh."

"Yeah…"

"Well in that case? I'd better get going." He pulled on his jacket and walked over to the door. "Just be sure to take care of our fern, okay, honey?" He blew a kiss, closing the door behind him, leaving Derek to twist the teddy bear and groan, throwing it against the wall.

* * *

Spencer stepped into the elevator, pressing the button and smiling, definitely feeling that a victory was imminent. Right before the door closed, he saw Derek's hand and watched as the door re-opened.

"Hi."

"Can I see you tomorrow?" Derek asked, leaning against the elevator door.

"…Really?"

"I hope so."

Spencer laughed. "Call me."

"I will," Derek promised, letting go of the door.

"And I'll call you."

"Sweet dreams."

"Answer your phone!" Spencer called out, before the doors closed. He sighed, leaning against the railing. '_What_?'


	7. Day 5

Derek was in the office, currently trying to brainstorm the right word for the ad campaign. Right now, Hotch was in a meeting with Seaver and Todd, and the last thing he wanted was for the two of them to weasel into his mind and make this bet go away. He had Garcia looking through a thesaurus while he thought of words that could possibly work.

"What was 'icy' again?"

"Arctic, freezing, and frigid," Garcia read, making a face.

He spun a basketball in his hands. "How about 'glitter'?"

"Garcia's favorite movie," Rossi spoke up, mid-sketch.

"It was underrated," she quickly explained, flipping through the book. "Glint, glisten, and scintillation."

"Scintillation, that's not _so_ bad," Rossi added.

"That sucks. Guys, let's take a break. How about a little coffee and some pool?" he asked, gesturing toward the table. "Maybe I'll be able to concentrate since this guy is driving me absolutely insane."

"Is it the guy driving you crazy, or is it the princess in your pants?"

Derek threw the ball at him, reaching for the pool cues.

"Wait a second, I thought you said after the hockey game that he was the best man you've ever found?" Garcia asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

He set up the game. "Oh believe me, he was. That was the _good_ Spencer. He was an amazing, fun, cool, sexy guy, but now? I'm talking about _evil_ Spencer. It's like he's on crack or something."

"He could possibly be bipolar?" Rossi offered, handing him a cup of coffee.

"Well his South Pole is definitely prevalent."

"All you have to do is five more days."

Derek clinked his cup against Rossi's, taking a sip.

* * *

"Muffin," a voice rang out.

"…This shouldn't be too difficult," Rossi spoke up.

Derek turned to face Spencer. "Hey, Spence. We were just talking about you." He looked down and saw Clooney on a leash. "What's the little guy doing here?"

He kissed Derek's cheek. "I thought he might be lonely, so I took him to see Daddy at work."

"That's great. How are you? You're looking great."

"Thank you, and now that I'm with you? I'm fantastic!"

"Spencer, this is Garcia, and this is Rossi."

He shook their hands. "Der-Bear has told me so much about you two."

"Oh, well, Der-Bear has said nothing but wonderful things about you, too."

Derek gave Rossi a look as Spencer turned to him. "They don't look so simple-minded. Now, look what I got for Clooney."

He looked down and saw Clooney in a purple plaid vest that matched Spencer's perfectly.

"Perfect outfit for our little Thor, don't you think?"

"Thor?" Rossi asked.

Spencer nodded. "Thor, as in Thor, the God of Thunder? Perfect nickname for the little guy, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah," Garcia spoke up, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, wait, there's more!" Spencer spoke up, looking in his shopping bag.

"What've you got there?"

Spencer held up a plaid shirt, holding it out to him.

"For me?"

"Mhm."

"Get out of town."

"Try it on for me, I want to be sure it fits."

He glanced at the tag. "Large? Oh yeah, that's going to fit."

"It matches!" Spencer explained.

"That's going to fit nicely, thank you." He put it over his shoulder, leaning in to kiss Spencer's cheek.

Spencer pulled back. "No, Derek, put it on."

"No, you should definitely try it on," Rossi told him. "You don't know if it's going to fit or not."

"Go for it!" Garcia encouraged.

"That has never hurt anybody!" Spencer said.

Derek shook his head, pulling on the shirt and buttoning it.

"You're a vision in plaid," Rossi said as Spencer finished buttoning the shirt for him.

"It's going to be a happy little family, just the three of us."

He wrapped an arm around Spencer. "We are, aren't we?"

Spencer nodded. "He's our little boy, Derek."

"See? That's sweet," Rossi said, looking at the two and smirking at Derek's facial expression.

* * *

Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, kissing him and pulling him in.

"Hey, it's good to see you too," Derek said, wrapping his arms around Spencer's waist. He was finally able to get out of his grasp a minute later.

"Well, congratulations, little plaid family," Garcia spoke up. "We've got a whole bunch of work we've got to do, but we're still on for poker at your house this weekend, right?" she asked, looking at Derek.

"You can count on it."

"Boys' night?" Spencer asked, turning to Derek.

"Yeah, and Garcia, you know, she's just like one of the guys here."

Spencer put up his hand. "Say no more, you boys and girl have fun." He turned his attention to his coworkers. "It was very nice to meet you."

"You too."

Garcia kissed two fingers, resting them on Spencer's cheek. "Adios, Boy Wonder."

Spencer turned to Derek as the two of them walked out. "Boy Wonder?"

Derek shook his head. "It's just, it's something she does."

Spencer grabbed Clooney's leash, looping it around his hand. "Tell me you love the sweater."

"Oh, I do, and check out that necklace. He's got more ice going on than Liberace."

"It's nothing, it's just a little frosting for my little cupcake," Spencer said, petting him.

Derek stopped scratching behind Clooney's ears and paused. "…Frosting?"

He nodded. "Frosting."

He smirked, kissing the dog's head and turning to Spencer. "I'll call you later."

"I'll be waiting." He whistled. "Come on, buddy. We've got to get you home."

* * *

Derek watched as Spencer walked out with him and smiled to himself, walking into the meeting Seaver and Todd were having with Hotch.

"We were thinking of something bold, new, and fresh," he heard Todd arguing.

He opened the door, sticking his head in. "'Frost yourself'."

Hotch turned around in his chair. "Excuse me?"

"'Frost yourself," he explained, stepping inside. "It's the slogan for the campaign."

"You frost a cake. We're in the middle of a meeting here, Derek," she said, motioning toward the photos.

Hotch put up his hand, wanting to hear more.

"I'm talking about diamonds, they're frosting. As in 'wow, would you check out her frosting?'."

Hotch leaned back in his chair. "…Frost yourself."

He nodded. "Frost yourself."

He turned to face Derek. "How did you come up with it?"

"I got it off of the man who is falling madly in love with me," he said, eyeing Seaver and Todd.

"It may have possibilities," Hotch started, getting up from his seat, "but as far as the man who's falling madly in love with you? I'll decide that at the party."

"If he can get him there," Todd spat out.

"Now just think about it – ladies, frost yourselves."

"Frost yourself."

"We could introduce it at the party," he said quickly.

"It should be the theme."

"Yes."

Everything is frosted."

"All of it."

"Martini glasses-"

"Chandeliers-"

"Jewels _everywhere."_

"Women-"

"The whole part is just a big sparkling diamond-"

"All of it, frosted." Derek looked down and saw Seaver and Todd starting to look extremely worried. He was definitely proud of himself for the accomplishment and would have to come up with the perfect way to make this up to Spencer.

* * *

Derek walked in after work, several grocery bags in his hand. He set them down on the counter and started unloading, noticing that they were several messages on his machine. Reaching over, he started playing them, pouring Clooney some food and water.

_Hey, Derek, it's me. Where are you?_

"I'm not home," he said, opening a beer and taking a sip.

_Derek, it's me, guess you're not home._

_Der-Bear, are you not answering your phone?_

"Yeah, I am," he mumbled, closing up the dog food and sticking it in the cabinet.

This time, the message was from Rossi. _Hey buddy, game three tonight at the bar. Don't be late or I will kill you._ Knowing the Rossi had a past possible mob connection, pissing him off was not something he wanted to do in any lifetime.

There was a knock on the door and he took another sip of his drink. "Who is it?"

"It's me!" Spencer called out.

He turned off the machine, setting his drink down and walking over to the door, pulling it open. "What a surprise."

"I tried to get a hold of you," Spencer said, walking inside and setting a bag down.

"Yeah?"

"I did something kind of out there at work today," Spencer said, opening his bag.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I may have used Photoshop at work today to composite our faces and see what our kids would look like. I know, I mean it's not possible, but I went for it anyway. And I put all the pictures in this." He took out a large book, pointing to the title. "Our Family Album!" He walked over, setting it on the table and turning to see Derek, waiting for a reaction. Seeing his face fall and watching him take another sip of his drink was definitely a small victory. "You don't want to see our children?"

"But, Spencer… we don't have children."

Spencer turned himself around, sitting down at the table and burying his head in his hands, willing himself to get upset. "I hate you," he said between sobs.

Derek hit his hand down on the counter before walking out, sitting next to him. "You know what? I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, all right? Show me, please, just show me?"

"But we don't have children, you said it yourself-"

"I thought you were referring to Clooney, I'm sorry. I just want to – will you please show them to `me?"

"You don't want to see them," he said softly, holding the book against his chest.

"I do, please, I really want to see them. Let me see."

"Really?"

"…Yeah."

Spencer smiled, opening up the book, revealing a shopped picture of the two of them in tuxedos. "That's our wedding. Your mother obviously walked you down the aisle, and your friend, Rossi? He was your best man."

"…And who was yours?"

Spencer shrugged. "I don't have male friends, so I have a best girl, and it was JJ, I can't wait for you to meet JJ, you're going to love her!" He turned the page, pointing. "And this is us with our first baby, Derek Jr."

"…Yeah," Derek said, trying to take it all in.

He pointed to another picture. "And this is us vacationing together at the beach. Little Spencer is on my shoulders, and Little Derek is on yours. Spencer's such a perfect unisex name, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," he mumbled, taking another swig of his beer.

"And there's little Spencer, she's such an adorable little girl, and of course, there they are together dressed up for Halloween. They'd make such cute little monsters."

"Wow, our kids are um, attractive," Derek said, trying to find the right word not to upset him.

* * *

He couldn't have been more relieved when the phone started ringing. He shot up, running over and grabbing the phone on the second ring. "Yeah? Oh hey, Mom. Yeah, I'm doing just fine, really. …Yeah, he's right here. Hold on." He held out the phone to Spencer, eyebrow raised. "It's for you."

"Oh, great!" He took the phone, pressing it against his ear. "Hey, Fran."

"Why is my mom calling you?" Derek asked, whispering.

Spencer held up his hand, shushing him. "I just showed him! He seems to think our children will be very attractive. You go back to cooking, I won't hold you up for long. Just call me later? Yeah, tomorrow works fine. Great, Fran, love you too. Bye." He hung up, holding the phone back out to Derek. "Thank you, sweetie."

"Yeah, so you and my mom are talking?"

"I had to call her to get some baby pictures of you for the photo album. Also, you never included in our conversations that you were in diapers until you were five years old. I really hope Derek Jr. doesn't have the same problem."

Derek set his drink down, coughing, before excusing himself to the bathroom. He was in the middle of washing his face when he reached for the towel and saw that it was pink and frilly. Upon further inspection, he saw an extra toothbrush, a hairbrush, several styling products, and that his entire cabinet had been filled with body sprays and other assorted health products. Shaking his head, he walked out to the bedroom, exhaling.

"Hey, Der-Bear?"

"Yes?" he asked, turning around to face him.

"…Do you have any plans tonight by any chance?"

"Tonight?" he said, trying to find an excuse.

"I have another surprise for you."

Considering Spencer's last surprises, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out what this one was. "Ah, you know what? It's not a good night for me, I have to work of all things." He saw Spencer's face fall. "Yeah, I had a great veggie casserole and a night of the game on TV planned, but I guess we're not going to be able to do it, because I have to go into work. It sucks."

"That's just too bad because I had tickets for tonight," Spencer said, shrugging.

"Tickets…?"

"Yeah, tickets. Great tickets – front row seats, right in the action. It could've been a great thing for us, but I suppose if you have to go to work, I'll just sell them or something and sit at home by myself. No big deal."

Derek chewed on his cheek. "You know what? I can probably get Garcia to work for me, it doesn't _have _to be me. Yeah, that works, thank you so much, Spencer."

"You are more than welcome."

Derek smiled, pumping his fist in victory. "Look what time it is, we should probably get going soon."

"This is really a once in a lifetime experience, and I can't wait to share it with you. I couldn't think of anyone better."

* * *

Derek wasn't sure what was the biggest hit to his masculinity: he didn't know if it was the fact that the tickets were for a Celine Dion concert, the fact that Spencer insisted on buying him a bright pink shirt as a constant reminder of the night he had, or the fact that he missed the big game for this. They walked out of the concert, Spencer's arm linked in Derek's, and he made sure he made it into a cab before he started swearing, very loudly. He didn't know how he was going to succeed on this assignment and make Spencer fall in love with him without completely losing his mind.


	8. Day 6

Spencer was up on the roof of his building, relaxing with Emily and JJ. He was really at wit's end on how to crack Derek, because nothing he was doing seemed to be working.

"And after all this, he still didn't leave you?" Emily asked, flipping through a magazine.

"I'm telling you, this calls for drastic measures." He ran a hand through his hair. "Come on, guys, concentrate. What else can I do to him?"

JJ laid back on her chair. "Well, are you being clingy?"

He counted the traits off on his fingers. "I've been clingy, whiny, needy-"

"Baby talk?" Emily asked.

"Occasionally, I mean, I could kick that up a notch. The family album didn't seem to have any effect on him so I'm not sure what else I can do that'll really freak him out, you know?"

"I used to obsess over Will's old girlfriends."

Emily put a finger up. "Better yet? You start talking about all of your old boyfriends. Just, you know, leave Asshole Ethan off the table."

"It's good, it's all good, and I could try it, but it's not going to crack this guy. It's like he's used to psychotic boyfriends or something. This is absolutely ridiculous and I have to do something truly appalling to drive him away-" he saw Emily and JJ laughing and shook his head. "This isn't funny! I really have to think about something before tomorrow."

Emily sat up. "Hold up, tomorrow? Why not tonight?"

"Poker night, it's his boys' night out."

"Will used to have a boys' night, he probably still does."

Emily shook her head. "A boys' night? You're actually giving him a boys' night?"

"They do it every week," Spencer reasoned.

"Before he met you."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I think you know."

JJ gasped. "And, _technically_, you are a boy, and therefore, you're _more_ than welcome at boys' night."

He smirked, leaning back in his seat. "I like the way you think."

"So what do they do on this boys' night anyway?"

He shrugged. "One of his coworkers mentioned that they play poker-"

"You know what you have to do," Emily said, "Mr. 'I'm banned from casinos'."

He smiled. "Make his friends hate me."

* * *

Derek sat down at the poker table. "Feeling lucky, boys?" he asked, going through his chips and counting them. When they all murmured in agreement, he threw his chips in the middle. "Two bucks down."

Garcia threw her chips in, smirking. "I'm just glad I didn't have to sit through a Celine Dion concert, ouch."

He shook his head as everyone started laughing. "That's what true love is all about, my friend."

"I'll fold."

"I see your two and raise you two fifty." Rossi set his chips down. "He's in love with you?"

"Are you kidding me? He's practically planning the wedding. In fact, he _has_ planned the wedding." Derek set down his cards, smiling. "Ladies over fours, read 'em and weep."

Rossi shook his head. "I had a three and an ace."

"Sucks for you," he said, dragging his chips toward him and stacking them. "It really doesn't get better than this."

The door opened and Spencer walked inside, bags in hand. "Smootiekins, I'm home." He walked in and looked at Derek, smiling. "Hi, sweetie."

"…Hey, Spencer."

Garcia faced him. "…He has a _key_?"

Rossi looked up. "Is that legal?"

"I wasn't expecting you," he spoke up. How'd you get a key?"

"Oh, honey, remember I came to get Clooney yesterday? Your super? He gave me a copy."

"My super, huh? All right."

Spencer walked up to him. "You're not mad, are you, Der-Bear?"

"No, I'm not mad?"

"You're not mad?"

He shook his head. "No, no, no, I'm not mad. I'm not mad at all."

"Oh, good."

Derek pointed to his friends. "You know the guys, Garcia, Frank, Rossi, Tom, Joe-"

Spencer shook each of their hands. "I didn't mean to interrupt your little game."

"We got it, it's all straightened out," Derek explained, stacking his chips.

"To make up for it, I brought some snacks." He grabbed a plate, setting it in the middle of the table. "Cucumber sandwiches for everyone." He waited until each of them took one and leaned back, watching the game. When it was a bad round for everyone, he turned to Derek. "…Can I play?"

"…You want to play hold 'em?"

He nodded. "I don't know, it seems like fun."

He raised an eyebrow. "…Sure." He grabbed a chair, dragging it over beside him. "Come on."

* * *

Spencer walked over, sitting beside Derek and evening out his stacks of chips. Derek dealt him in and he checked his cards, keeping a good poker face. He saw a ten down and saw two tens already in his hand. Knowing he could go for at least a three of a kind, he threw his chips in the middle, watching as the rest of the table did the same. When the fourth and fifth cards were dealt, he saw another ten and smirked, making his bet considerably larger.

"Okay, Spencer, do you have anything? If not, it's fine, it's only your first round," Derek said.

Spencer shrugged, setting down his hand. "I made four tens, is that good?"

Several of the players threw down their cards in frustration and Derek raised his eyebrows. "That's really good. Anyone have anything else?" They all shook their heads and Derek pointed to the pot. "All yours."

Spencer smiled, proud of himself, dragging the chips closer to him. After several more rounds, Spencer winning each one, he looked around apologetically. "Sorry, guys. Derek knew how good I was at the game, I'm surprised he even let me play." He got up. "I'm going to the kitchen, anyone need anything?"

Derek picked up his jaw and shook his head, watching Spencer walk out.

Garcia backhanded him. "You let him join the game, knowing he was going to win every single round?"

He rubbed his arm, wincing. "Those rings hurt you know, and I didn't know he was good!"

"Not what he said. Apparently, you just let him hustle all of us," Rossi said.

"Yeah, including me!"

* * *

While they were in the middle of another game, Spencer walked out, noticing the plant he'd gotten for Derek wilted in the corner. "Oh, no. Oh, _no_. Our love fern?!" he walked over, picking it up. "It's dead!"

Derek shook his head, pointing to it. "No, honey, don't you see? It's just sleeping."

"You let it die! Are you going to let _us_ die too?"

Derek exhaled as Spencer walked in the kitchen, setting the plant on the counter and laughing to himself.

"Is he on something?" Garcia asked, motioning toward the kitchen.

"I really hope so," he whispered, spinning a finger beside his head. Garcia laughed to herself while Rossi gave him a look, and with that look, he knew he was screwed.

Spencer stepped toward the table, plate of veggies in hand. "Are you saying that I'm some kind of mental person!?" he snapped, throwing the plate down.

"No, he wasn't-" Rossi started.

"Shut it, Rossi." He pointed a finger at him before turning back to Derek and walking back to the kitchen. "That's _it_. That is _it_. I'm taking our love fern with me and I'm out of here."

Derek got up, trying to reason with him, but watched him walk out the door.

* * *

Spencer laughed softly, pressing the button for the elevator and leaning against the wall, slightly proud of himself for everything he'd accomplished in the last hour.

Derek put up a finger to his friends. "Just, hold on, give me a minute." He opened the door, walking out to the hallway. "Hey, hey, hey, Spencer. Do you want to tell me what just happened in there?"

Spencer shrugged. "I had a great time playing poker with your friends and then you decided that I was crazy. There isn't much to figure out."

"This is getting creepy, all right? You're acting completely insane. You know that?"

"Oh, so I _am_ insane?" Spencer asked.

"No, I said you're _acting_ insane." He heard Clooney barking and grew more frustrated. "Quiet, Clooney," he snapped.

Spencer gasped, pointing to him. "He's an innocent animal, he didn't do anything, leave him alone."

"And he'll live with that, he probably already forgot about it with his short attention span, now I'm talking to you."

"I don't know, Derek, I don't think I can be with somebody who hates animals and thinks I'm a mental person." He stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.

"That's what I'm talking about." Derek put his hand on the elevator door. "What the hell happened to the sexy, cool, fun, smart Spencer that I knew? The one who wanted to be a serious journalist and do something important with his life? You're up, you're down, you're here, you're there, it's like a roller coaster ride dating you."

Spencer looked at him. "So I guess this means we're over?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He stepped back, letting the doors close.

"Fine."

"Fine."

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally!" Though, for some reason, he couldn't escape an odd feeling of guilt and regret.

* * *

Derek walked back to his apartment and saw everyone gathered at his door, obviously listening in to the fight that just happened. He let Clooney run in and closed the door behind him. He put up his hands. "It's over, man."

"No, no, no!" Garcia quickly said, Rossi following suit and the two of them pushing him into the kitchen.

"It is, man. It's over," he quickly argued.

Garcia put up four fingers. "Four days. _Four_."

"Four more days!" Rossi snapped.

"…You were here, did you not just witness the one man homage to The Exorcist? Come on. You saw it!"

"Yeah, I did," Rossi told him. "And tell you the truth, I think you should've snatched him up and taken him to the bedroom, because maybe then he would've stopped with the crazy."

"Yeah!" Garcia added.

Derek shook his head. "There was nothing sexy about that at all."

"He's right," Rossi shrugged.

"No, forget it." Garcia sighed.

Rossi turned to Garcia, ignoring Derek. "So do you think Seaver and Todd are going to be comfortable and happy in their new office after they get this new ad campaign?" he asked.

"Oh, absolutely! Sure. Maybe Derek's excited that he's going to be selling Nerf footballs for the rest of his life!"

"Hey!" Derek snapped. "Unnecessary."

"He may even get a really good douche campaign," Rossi added.

"Hey, come on, that's done. What else am I supposed to do with this?"

Garcia put up a finger. "Couples' therapy."

"Of course!" Rossi exclaimed.

"What are you two talking about?"

"Every time Rossi's wives brought up divorce, he'd bring up couples' therapy to them and they'd fall for it."

Rossi nodded in agreement. "It always bought me more time, and let's avoid the fact the only people I make happy these days are divorce lawyers and my wives with my alimony payments."

Garcia ignored him. "It'll buy you at least four days, which is exactly what you need."

"Yes, couples' therapy!"

Derek nodded. "Couples' therapy." Rossi and Garcia attempted to get him hyped up and it seemed to work, him quickly walking out and going down the fire escape.

* * *

He went as quickly as he could, running down the steps and jumping any possible time he could. Were he not caught up in the moment, he'd make note of all of his movements. He saw Spencer walking out and ran up behind him, calling his name.

"Listen, can you forgive me?" he asked. "I don't know what I was thinking, all right? I'm sorry and I was _way_ out of line. Can you give me another chance, please?" He got down on his knees, holding up his hands.

"Haven't you had enough?" Spencer asked.

"Hey, look, I'm willing to do anything to make this work."

Spencer shook his head. "Get up."

"I'll do anything, Spencer. Really. I mean, seriously, what do you think of couples' therapy?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Couples' therapy?"

"Yeah, couples' therapy. Rossi, he's got this doctor, and he says he's a hell of a guy, I'm positive he could help us get over this little hump and move on."

Spencer smirked. "No, I know a therapist who will work _wonders_ with someone like you, Derek."

"That's exactly what I need."

"I'll call and schedule an emergency session for tomorrow."

"Whatever it takes." He leaned in, kissing Spencer's cheek. "Thank you, Spencer. Thanks for understanding."

"I love you, Smootiekins, but right now, I don't have to like you. I'll call you once I have the details for tomorrow." He patted his shoulder and walked past him, wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

"Thank you, Spencer!"

Spencer held up a hand, acknowledging him, continuing to walk away.

"Damnit!" Derek snapped once he was out of earshot.


	9. Day 7

First thing the next morning, Spencer called JJ, hoping he could get a favor from her.

"Yeah, Spence?" she mumbled into the phone.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

She shook her head, groaning. "Not at all, I'm always up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning."

"I'm really sorry-"

"What's up?"

"I need a favor. Derek and I broke up last night, but then he just – he came back and wants to try _couples_ _therapy_, can you believe that?!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Couples therapy… I should've suggested that."

He clapped his hands together. "JJ, focus."

"Right, sorry." She sat up. "What do you need?"

"You and your apartment for about an hour today?"

"I'm not following."

"He wants me to see his buddy's therapist, but he might actually solve the problems. I need somebody who's only going to make them worse, you know?"

She sighed. "I guess I owe you one, don't I?"

"Actually, you owe me around four, but I'll save those for another time."

She took a deep breath, sighing. "My apartment, 10:00 a.m., I'll have everything set up, don't be late."

"I promise. Thank you _so_ much."

"Mhm." She hung up and he smiled to himself.

A few minutes later, he called Derek.

Derek groaned, reaching for his phone and checking the caller ID. Seeing it was Spencer, he knew better than to let it go to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Hey, Derek, did I wake you up?"

"Yeah, but it's all good. What's up, Spencer?"

"I got in touch with that therapist, and she can get us in at 10:00 this morning for an emergency session. I'll meet you at your place and we'll walk over together?"

He ran his fingers through Clooney's fur. "Sounds great, I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Derek."

"Bye." He hung up, lying back on the bed and groaning.

Meanwhile, Spencer was wondering why Derek was working so hard on this relationship – he may actually love him, which would suck for him in the long run, but if he didn't, he didn't know why it mattered so much to him.

* * *

He showed up at Derek's apartment at 9:30 and the two of them walked over to JJ's apartment.

"If you're really going to commit to this, you're going to have to open up," Spencer started, walking down the hallway, "and dig deep."

"…Okay."

"Bare that beautiful soul," he said, knocking on the door.

"And why are we dressed up for this, may I ask?"

"Because we want to make a good impression," Spencer stated, fixing his own jacket.

JJ opened the door, with glasses on and an all white outfit. "Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan. Please, come in. Welcome."

Spencer gave her a look as he walked in and sat down on the couch, Derek taking the seat beside him.

JJ sat down in her own chair. "Before we get started, how are you planning on paying for the session?"

"Sweetie?" Spencer asked, rubbing his back.

Derek shrugged. "How much is it?"

"$300."

He raised an eyebrow. "$300?"

"Mhm."

"Whatever it takes," he mumbled, taking out his checkbook from the inside pocket.

"So, tell me, how long have you two been seeing each other?" JJ reached up, adjusting her glasses, before opening up her notebook.

"Seven days," Spencer stated.

"Seven days," she repeated. "Interesting."

"Is it too soon to be seeing a therapist?" Derek asked, finishing the check.

"Well, Derek, seven days isn't forever, but it's still significant," Spencer defended.

"Yeah, it's not a lifetime, it's like a week. It actually _is_ a week."

"It-" he pointed to Derek, "did you hear that tone? How could we not have miles between us when he uses that against me?"

JJ took off her glasses, putting the earpiece in her mouth. "And how are things between you two sexually?"

Spencer smirked. "Oh!"

"We haven't had sex," Derek put plainly.

"Derek has a little bit of a problem," Spencer whispered.

"I don't have a problem."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I do not have a problem," he snapped.

Spencer shrugged. "It's a big problem, but it's nothing to be ashamed of, Derek. A lot of men have these problems, you're not alone."

"Look, the one night that we even _thought_ about getting close to anything involving sex, he decides that she's going to call my-"

"Penis?"

"Yes, he's going to name it _princess_. You want to talk about shooting a man down? That's it, come on."

Spencer put up his hands. "I happened to think it was a beautiful name."

"I see how it is, Derek." JJ leaned forward. "And, tell me, when was the first time you realized that you're no longer sexually attracted to Spencer?"

Spencer eyed him. "That's serious."

"What?"

"Derek, it's a safe space, you can talk about it here. There's a no judgment zone," JJ told him, motioning toward the air. "Nothing leaves these four walls."

"Look, it's simple, I like men, and that's the way it's always been, that hasn't changed. It just the way the world works, and women aren't my thing."

Spencer smirked. "It's okay to admit."

Derek rolled his eyes. "This is the shit I'm talking about with him. What the hell was that?"

Spencer gasped. "What did I do?"

"This is what he does to me. Will you stop that?"

"I'm hearing a lot of latent anger here, Derek."

"Rage-a-holic," Spencer added.

Derek groaned. "I'm _not_ a rage-a-holic. Stop this."

After JJ instructed him to take a deep breath, she held out her hand, taking his and squeezing it. "I've seen this before, many times. It's going to be fine."

"Yeah?"

Spencer looked between the two. "Would you two like to be left alone?"

"No," JJ quickly said, going back to her notebook.

"Maybe you should get a room. I can't believe this, you are actually _hitting_ on our shrink right now, when you insisted just minutes ago that you were interested in men. What is that? Not to mention you're a pathological flirt and it's disgusting!"

He put up his hands. "So two minutes ago, I'm gay, and now I'm hitting on our female shrink? And do tell me, why would I need to be hitting on other people when you have more than enough going on in your head to keep me completely occupied?"

"That was hurtful," Spencer whispered.

"Derek, are you ashamed to be dating Spencer?" JJ asked.

"Of course he is!"

He shook his head. "I'm not ashamed, at all."

"When I talked to his mother? He freaked out on me."

Derek pointed a finger. "See, you did that behind my back, that wasn't freaking out, it was justified."

"I just wanted to say hi and get to know her."

"You want to talk to my mother?" He straightened up. "You want to talk to her? Talk to her. Do you want to talk to the whole family? You can talk to the whole family. The two of us can take a flight to Chicago and spend a weekend at my mother's place, Spencer."

"Now _that_ is a great idea, Derek!" JJ said, clapping her hands together.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "…It is?"

"How about it, Spencer? Would you like to go to Chicago for the weekend?"

He gave JJ a look before eyeing Derek. "You would really take me to Chicago for the weekend to meet your entire family?"

"…Yes."

He took a deep breath. "Then I guess I have some packing to do."

* * *

He let Derek leave the apartment first, and once he was sure he was out of earshot, he hit JJ on the arm. "What the _hell_ was that?!"

"I panicked! He wants to take you home to the family, Spence. That's so adorably sweet of him, you have to do it."

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "It is not sweet, it is a _huge_ step and not one I need to make when I have to break this guy's heart in a few days."

"…Or you could just keep dating him?" she suggested.

"I knew I should've asked Emily," he mumbled, shouldering his bag. "Just for this? No more notes and you owe me coffee for a _month_."

"I can live with that."

"And I swear to God, Jayje, if you just made my job harder-"

"I'm sure you can handle it. Now go, you're going to have an expensive flight to catch."

He shot another glare at her before stepping out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Spencer met Derek at the airport an hour later, a duffel bag packed and ready to go. Derek held up two boarding passes. "You ready to do this?"

"You're really going to have me meet the parents?"

"Moreso meet the mom and sisters, my dad died when I was ten."

"I'm sorry."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why, did you pull the trigger?"

He shook his head, taking his boarding pass. "No, but, it's still sad. I mean, my dad left when I was ten, but that bastard is just at a law firm in Summerlin, nine miles from where I grew up." He shrugged. "I'd trade his existence for anyone else any day."

"We've got all sorts of daddy issues going on, don't we?"

"I guess so." He picked up his bag. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

On the flight, Spencer kept his focus on the in-flight movie, only turning to Derek every few minutes to try to read his expression. When he saw nothing to indicate any sort of emotion, his attention would shift back to the movie.

* * *

After landing, Derek got the two of them a cab and gave his mother's address. Spencer watched as they pulled up to a house and reached for his bag, picking it up and getting out of the cab. He crossed his arms, waiting for Derek to pay the driver. Once he did, he rested a hand on Spencer's back. "Shall we?"

He nodded, and let Derek lead him inside.

"Hey, Momma. We're here," he called out, closing and locking the door behind him once they made it into the apartment.

Spencer looked at a picture, tracing it with his finger. "Is this you and your dad?"

Derek smiled. "Yeah, that's him. He was actually a cop, and was shot when he tried to stop a crime when he was off-duty – I was right there." He saw Spencer ready to open his mouth and shook his head. "Don't apologize."

Shortly after, Spencer saw a red-headed woman walk in, wrapping her arms around Derek and kissing his cheek. "Derek, it's been too long." She hugged him again and smiled, looking at his face. "You really need to shave. I told you, it's not a good look for you."

He laughed softly. "I'll get around to it, I know you prefer the goatee look on me."

"That I do."

He pulled back, motioning toward Spencer. "Mom, I know you've already talked on the phone, but I'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Spencer Reid."

Spencer held out his hand to shake it, but Fran swatted it away, hugging him.

"Sorry, Pretty Boy, we're huggers in this family."

Spencer smiled, hugging her back. "That's fine."

She got a good look at him. "You're even more handsome than you sound on the phone."

He raised an eyebrow. "Thank you?"

She then turned back to Derek. "Your sisters are coming by tonight for dinner, so they should be here in about an hour or so. Do you two want to rest up a bit beforehand?"

"I think that might be a good idea." He patted Spencer's arm. "Right this way." He walked down the hall and Spencer followed.

* * *

Derek pushed open the door to his childhood bedroom and Spencer stepped inside, smiling. "Sports Illustrated swimsuit models?" he asked, motioning toward the posters.

"…Yeah, I went through a phase in high school – when you're a football player yearning for a scholarship, they don't exactly hand them to you on a silver platter when they found out you're interested in men." He set his bag down at the foot of his bed, smirking. "Apparently, momma doesn't trust us and you're sleeping on a cot."

He turned around, setting his bag down. "…I guess so." He kicked off his shoes before lying down, fluffing the pillow behind him. "At least it's comfortable."

"Momma doesn't let anyone be uncomfortable under her roof. To be completely honest, you'll probably have fresh baked cookies waiting for you in the morning."

"That doesn't sound so bad," he mumbled, yawning.

"Get some sleep, Spencer. I promise, I won't let my sisters doodle on your face with Sharpie while you're sleeping."

Spencer gave him a thumbs up before his eyes slipped closed.

* * *

An hour later, Derek heard a knock on the door and knew his sisters had gotten there. He got off of the bed, walking over and shaking Spencer's arm.

Spencer blinked before running a hand over his face. "Is your family here?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, just got here. I'll go distract them and give you a few minutes to wake up. Coffee?"

He nodded. "Four sugars."

"I didn't know you had such a sweet tooth."

He shrugged. "A lot you don't know about me, Derek Morgan."

He smirked. "I guess so." He patted Spencer's arm before walking out, closing the door behind him.

Spencer sat up on the bed, running his hand through his hair. He took in Derek's bedroom again before smiling at some of the posters – behind the scantily clad women seemed to be posters of Star Wars and Indiana Jones movies. Once he had woken up, he walked around the room, looking at the figurines and other remnants of his childhood. Knowing that he couldn't spend too much time in there without raising suspicion, he slipped his shoes back on, tying them, and walked out of the bedroom.

"Derek?" he called out, looking down the hall.

"In the living room, Spencer," he heard him call out, followed by women laughing. He took a deep breath, sighing, before walking toward the living room, taking the empty seat beside Derek.

One of his sisters, who looked like a spitting image of their mother, eyed him. "You must be the guy that's driving my brother crazy."

The other sister nudged her in the side. "Sarah!"

"What? Titanic and a Celine Dion concert, Desi."

Spencer blushed, pointing to the coffee in front of him. "Mine?" he asked Derek.

Derek nodded. "Four sugars, already stirred in."

He held it up in a silent thank you before taking a big sip, setting it back down. "'Guy that's driving your brother crazy' isn't my given name, it's Spencer." He held it out his hand. "And judging by the gesture from your sister, you're Sarah."

She looked at Derek. "I like him!" she shook his hand.

His other sister held out her hand. "And I'm Desiree, the youngest, and therefore, most loved."

Derek scoffed. "Please, momma doesn't see me as much as you two, so she has less time to get sick of me."

Spencer smirked, shaking her hand, before going back to his coffee.

* * *

"So tell us about yourself, Spencer," Sarah said, straightening in her seat.

He shrugged. "There isn't much to me, really. I'm originally from Las Vegas, though nowhere near the strip. I studied at Columbia, got my masters in journalism, and embarrassingly, I work at a women's magazine, giving advice, specifically, 'how-to's."

Desiree gasped. "You're the how-to guy? I _love_ your writing."

He smiled slightly. "Thank you, but I'm hoping to get out of it and go into something more serious. Something about my article appearing beside an ad for tampons doesn't exactly scream, 'life goal'."

Sarah laughed. "I guess not, but at least it's something. Trust me, Derek didn't start in sports equipment and alcoholic beverages."

"Sarah-" he interrupted.

She put up her hand. "His first ad campaign? Mom still has it in a scrapbook somewhere, it's hilarious. It was an ad for feminine hygiene products, and the slogan was-"

"Sarah!" he snapped.

Desiree rolled her eyes. "What, you bring home a boyfriend and you expect us to not embarrass you? Come on, we have to even the playing board, considering how many times you grilled our past boyfriends."

"If you get into this, Spencer, just wait until I meet your parents."

Spencer shook his head. "My dad's a deadbeat and my mother's not necessarily around, so I wish you luck with that."

"Nice one, Derek, pour salt in the wounds."

* * *

The four of them were able to keep up conversations for over an hour before Fran walked in. "If you don't mind putting this talk on hold? Dinner's going to be ready in five minutes."

Derek got up. "I've got the table, mom, don't worry about it." He kissed her cheek, walking out to the kitchen, his sisters following close behind.

"I take it his sisters were nice enough to share a few stories?" Fran asked, wiping her hands on a small towel.

He smiled, nodding. "Quite a few. I know about the teddy bear, the first ad campaign, and his high school football injuries."

She took the seat beside him. "I have to say, Spencer, you're definitely different."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all."

He smirked. "Well, thank you, but I bet they do this to all of Derek's boyfriends he brings home."

"What other boyfriends?" she nudged his arm. "Spencer, you're the first one he's brought home." She heard a timer going off in the kitchen and put up a finger. "That'll be the baked potatoes." She patted his cheek before walking out to the kitchen, leaving Spencer alone in the room. He had to wonder why he was the first person he dated worthy of coming home to meet his mother and sisters, and even worse, he had to wonder why he mattered so much.


	10. Day 8

The next afternoon, Derek offered to take Spencer sightseeing around Chicago, to let him take in the area and show him a few places he'd gone to growing up. He got the motorcycle he kept in Chicago out of his mother's garage and handed a helmet to Spencer. He quickly took it, strapping it on and wrapping his arms around Derek's waist, keeping a grip on him. He drove by United Center, where the Blackhawks play, as well as by Wrigley Field, home of the Cubs. Seeing as Derek was a fan of neither of them, and Spencer didn't seem too keen on them either, they didn't make stops.

To kill some time, Derek decided that they should go to Lincoln Park Zoo. As it's free to the public, they'd be able to enjoy an afternoon just walking around together, engaging in small talk. Derek kept his hand around Spencer's waist, gripping every once in a while, giving him a smirk. Spencer would stop every once in a while to read one of the cards, to get as much information as he could on the animal inside, before leaning against the railing and trying to get a good look.

He also let Spencer get a view of the Chicago skyline, one of his favorite sights in the world. After taking it in, Derek turned to him. "Do you want it to be your turn?" he asked, pointing to the motorcycle.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "My turn?"

"Yeah, come on, I'll teach you."

He smirked. "I guess." He put his helmet back on, tightening it. He then straddled the bike, putting his hands on the handlebar. "It's heavy."

"Try turning it on first, it might help with the moving."

Spencer mock laughed, starting it.

"There you go, now keep this clutch in," he instructed, taking Spencer's left hand. Spencer took a mental note as he instructed him the brake was on the right and the gears on the left. He kicked off and did as Derek told him, pressing lightly on the clutch, and slightly on the brake. "Just a little give and a little go. Think you can do that?"

He laughed softly, nodding. "A little give and a little go."

"That's it."

He revved the engine a few times before taking off, Derek falling off the back. The bike swerved slightly, Spencer immediately panicking. Derek hoped on the back of the bike, grabbing the clutch and the brake.

"A little bit of both," he instructed, pressing down on them. "There you go. You got it now?"

He nodded. "I've got it."

"And voila, you, Spencer Reid, are now driving a motorcycle."

"But I don't have a motorcycle license-"

"I won't tell if you won't."

* * *

After Spencer rode along for a while, Derek decided to park the bike and get them some ice cream cones. He walked back, standing beside Spencer.

"You know, there are plenty of benefits with owning a motorcycle: it's less gas, I can weave through traffic, park wherever the hell I want and people can't complain about it. It's definitely ideal, living in a big city. Plus, at the end of the day, who's not going to want a man on a motorcycle? Everyone digs 'em."

Spencer took the cone from him, smiling. "Thank you."

At that moment a truck drove by, spraying the two of them with muddy water. Frustrated, Derek threw his cone, groaning, while Spencer wiped his face off with his shirt, wrinkling his nose.

"You look nice covered in mud," Spencer said, laughing it off. Derek soon joined him and he smiled. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Well, yeah."

"People really dig _this_?" he asked, motioning toward the muddy bike and himself.

"Yes, people actually dig _this_."

* * *

Once they cleaned up with some napkins, Derek let Spencer take care of the ride back to his mother's place. He set the bike in the garage, closing the door and locking it, before leading Spencer upstairs.

"Mom?" he called out, entering the apartment. When there was no response, he shrugged. "Might've run to the store." He took Spencer's hand, leading him to the bathroom.

He got a view of the two of them in the mirror and smiled. "Well, look at you, smart guy."

"Yeah, look at this," he said, running his fingers through his hair and the fingers coming up dirty.

Derek pulled back the shower curtain, turning on the hot water as much as he could. "Just be careful with this shower, because the cold is hot and the hot is cold, not to mention the pressure is off if you don't have the head at _just_ the right angle."

Spencer sat down on the toilet, looking up at Derek and biting his lip.

Derek then pointed to the towel rack. "Towels are right there, all clean because I know momma put fresh ones in here this morning."

Spencer gave him a smile, looking down at the floor.

"Everything all right?" Derek asked. "Is this okay?"

"Oh no, it's more than okay. I just, I love everything about this place: the pictures on the wall, the smells of fresh cooked meals, and the feeling of being at home, even though it's not? It's great, really. I just – I've never really felt that before."

Derek kneeled in front of him. "Felt what?"

"At home," he said softly, eyeing him before looking down at his lap. "My last relationship, he was too embarrassed by me, or possibly his sexuality, to introduce me to his family, and decided that cheating on me was a better option."

"It's just," he bit his lip, "your mom hugged me this morning, just because I was leaving the house for a few hours, and she really hugged me." He swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose and willing himself not to get upset.

"That's a good thing," Derek explained, rubbing his arm. "Now come on, give me a smile. You shouldn't be upset."

Spencer blinked back tears, exhaling. "I've never felt this cared about before and it's, it's just really nice, you know?"

"I'm sure." He squeezed his arm. "Now come on, let me see that smile."

Spencer gave him a quick smile before looking back down at his lap.

Derek rested his hand on Spencer's cheek, rubbing it with his thumbs, before moving in and kissing him. Without even thinking, Spencer closed the gap between the two of them, kissing Derek again. He lifted his arms up, allowing Derek to pull off his muddy shirt and discard it, then he did the same to him. Before it went further, Derek leaned over, turning the lock on the bathroom door. Spencer kicked off his jeans and watched as Derek did it to his own. Finally, Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, pulling him into the shower. He didn't care that he was still semi-clothed, and he didn't give a single damn about his assignment. Absolutely nothing mattered to him in that moment, except making himself and Derek happy, finally opening up so much in a relationship that he wanted to give him everything he could. In none of his past relationships had he ever felt this close to somebody so quickly, nor had he wanted this much with someone in his past. This was unlike anything else he'd ever had, and he liked it.

* * *

He stepped out of the shower afterward, grabbing a towel and drying himself off, holding one out to Derek. He reached up, taking out his contacts and blinking a few times, adjusting.

"Does this mean I get to see you in your glasses again?" Derek asked.

Spencer smiled. "Unless you want me walking into walls and squinting to read anything and everything, yes."

Derek took his hand, leading him to his bedroom. "Do you want to tell me where they are, or do you want to dig through the bag yourself?"

Spencer pointed to his bag. "Side pocket in the case."

Derek unzipped the pocket, reaching in and taking out his glasses, handing them to him. Spencer put them on, turning to him. "…Did you grab our clothes off of the bathroom floor? I've made a really good impression on your mother and really don't think her seeing my soaking wet boxers is necessary."

Derek put up a finger. "I'm on it." He walked out and returned a minute later, their clothes in a bag. "Crisis averted."

Spencer dug through his bag, getting dressed, before attempting to towel dry his hair. He ran his fingers through it before reaching in for his hairbrush, brushing through the tangled mess.

"I guess I could've gone a little easier on the hair?" Derek asked.

Spencer shrugged. "It's no worse than usual." He threw his brush back into his bag and turned to Derek, smiling. "Is your mom making dinner tonight?"

"Most likely."

"Is she going to be home soon?

He shrugged. "Probably another hour."

"Then do you think we could cuddle? Because I'm no easy man, Derek."

Derek laughed softly, getting dressed and motioning toward his bed. "Be my guest."

Spencer laid down and soon after, Derek laid down beside him. He rested his head on Derek's chest, running his fingers up his chest and taking in every single muscle.

"Are you feeling any better?" Derek asked, kissing the top of his head.

He nodded slightly. "Much, thank you."

"Thank you, too," he whispered, running his fingers through Spencer's hair.


	11. Day 9 & 10

The next day, the two of them were on a flight back home. Since it was an early flight, the two of them were still tired. At one point, Derek pulled up the armrest between them, wrapping his arm around Spencer. All Spencer could think to do was lean against Derek, resting his head on his shoulder and dozing off. Never before had he felt this comfortable with somebody, and all he wanted was this closeness forever. He tilted his head up, kissing Derek's cheek, before moving in that last bit so they were touching. When he made it back to work, he needed to have a serious talk with Strauss, because this article definitely wasn't going to be written anymore.

Once they landed, Derek grabbed their bags and led Spencer out to a cab, getting in with him. They stopped in front of Spencer's apartment building and Derek got out, promising to walk him inside.

"This is home, huh?" Derek asked, squeezing his hand. "Nice place."

Spencer smiled, nodding. "It's not much, but this is home." He let go of his hand, standing on the top step and facing him and suddenly dealing with an awkward silence.

"Hey, Spencer," Derek started. "Tomorrow night, my boss is throwing a party for that big diamond account I was telling you about. I want you to come with me."

Spencer took the few steps back down, standing face to face with Derek. "…Okay."

"As my boyfriend."

Spencer grinned, laughing softly. "Are you really calling me your boyfriend right now?"

"I think I am."

He exhaled, thinking to himself. "Won't tomorrow be the tenth day we've been seeing each other?"

"Mhm."

"Maybe, after that? We'll know." He turned around, walking back up the steps, but turning around when Derek started talking to him again.

"I don't want you to make any plans for day 13, alright? Because," he pulled two tickets out of his pocket, "we have a game to go to."

Spencer smiled, taking one and eyeing it.

"They're not as good as the seats you got for us, but it's game seven, a can't miss. Yes?"

He pulled Derek into a hug, squeezing as tightly as he could, though the guilt was heavy in his gut. He patted Derek's shoulder, walking back up the steps and waving to him before walking inside.

* * *

The next morning at work, the first thing Spencer had to do was go right to Strauss' office and explain his reasoning for why he can't write this article. Surely, if she had a heart, he'd be able to get out of it and write something else tonight. He saw that Strauss was busy and waited until her office was empty. Finally stepping up to her desk, he sighed.

"Erin, I can't write this article."

She looked at him, confused. "Is your computer broken? I'll call tech support, have them send you another one."

"I've really gotten to know this guy-" he started.

"Do you see any patches or insignia anywhere on my clothing?"

He shook his head, confused. "No, of course not."

"That's because I'm not your scout leader, I'm your boss. You're going to write the article." She pointed over to the giant image of the cover. "The cover is at the printer as we speak, and with our ad campaign from Hotchner Advertising, our ad quota is going to be met for the entire year. Now, I want copy on my desk in 48 hours, have I made myself clear?"

"Yes. But what if I change the article?"

Change it?"

He nodded. "I could present all the ideas on what not to do in a relationship and therefore, give women a guide on how to _not_ lose a guy in 10 days."

"Admirable as it sounds, as I said, the cover's already at the printer, and we can't change anything now. You're going to breakup with him, and you're going to write the article."

"But Erin-"

"No 'but Erin's. You'll do it because you're a professional."

He sighed, defeated. "Yes, I am." He gave her a nod, thanking her for her time, before turning to walk out of the office. Noticing the giant blown-up cover on the posterboard, he groaned, disgusted with himself for even suggesting the idea.

He walked out to his desk, sitting down and burying his head in his hands, groaning loudly.

"How'd it go?" Emily asked.

He looked up. "Fantastic, can't you tell? Erin said I could write another how-to and my life is going absolutely perfect."

She sighed, getting up and walking into his cubicle, rubbing his back. "What if you don't do it? What if you just, I don't know, say you did? Or you could just present all the dating tips to drive a guy away so they know what not to do in their own relationships."

He sniffed, shaking his head. "Erin wouldn't buy it. She wants to actually know about the breakup happening so I can conclude my article with it. Tonight's his boss' big party, and I'm just supposed to do it there, on the biggest night of his career? That's not fair."

JJ walked in, sitting on his desk and grabbing his hand, squeezing it. "Spence, you really fell for this guy, didn't you?"

He bit his lip, nodding. "He took me home to meet his mom, and his sisters, and I got to know them. Before I left? His mom made me promise not to break his heart. Not only am I hurting him, but I'm breaking a promise to her, and she's really the sweetest woman I've ever met."

Emily sighed, pulling him out of his chair and into a hug, rubbing his back. "I'm here if you need to talk, I promise."

He buried his head in her shoulder, willing himself not to get upset, but ultimately failing. He finally let out everything he'd been holding in. His stomach was in knots and he actually felt physically sick about what he needed to do just to keep this job he didn't even want in the first place.

* * *

That night, Spencer paced his apartment several times after he'd gotten ready to go out with Derek. He nervously played with his tie to the point that he'd had to retie it twice, and he'd double and triple checked that his shoes were properly tied. When his phone buzzed with a text message from Derek saying he would be there in a few minutes, he took a deep breath, getting in the elevator and going downstairs. A private car pulled up and Derek got out, checking his reflection and fixing his own tie. Sighing, he went down the front steps, stepping toward the car. Derek turned around, getting a good look at him and smiling, nodding.

"You look great."

Spencer laughed softly. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Derek held out his hand and Spencer took it, letting Derek loop their arms together and walk him to the car, holding the door open for him.

The drive over was relatively quiet, Spencer spending most of the time watching out the window as they passed other cars. He screwed his eyes shut, sighing, not wanting this to go how he needed it to.

Derek reached over, squeezing his hand. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded. "Everything's fine." He squeezed his hand back with a smile, lacing their fingers together, and the rest of the ride was silent.

* * *

As the two of them walked in together, Spencer kept a grip on Derek's arm, not wanting to let go of him.

Garcia looked over at the two of them, smirking and turning to Rossi, holding her glass of champagne up. "Let's give it up for couples' therapy."

Rossi clinked their glasses together and they both drank, smirking, avoiding the looks that Seaver and Todd were giving them.

Spencer looked at Derek, eyebrows raised. "This is some party. It's quite… extravagant." He saw Derek looking nervous and fixed his suit jacket. "You're going to do great tonight, I know it."

He smiled. "I'm gonna go to the bar and grab us a couple of drinks. What are you in the mood for?"

"I could go for some champagne, since we're going to be celebrating your big campaign tonight."

"Two glasses of champagne, coming up." He kissed the top of Spencer's head. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

"Aaron!" Erin called out, finding Hotch in the crowd.

"Erin, always nice to see you."

She grinned. "What, you don't show up at a party for ages and now you think you can throw the shindig of the year? Very impressive."

He kissed her cheeks. "I'm glad you could make it to this one, it's definitely the best we're going to have for quite some time."

She pointed around the room. "Do tell me how you were able to get all of these jewelers to agree to appear at the same event? Weren't they worried about competition?"

Hotch put up a finger. "It's very simple, really. It was at the request of the Mrs.," he stated, pointing to a woman very extravagantly dressed. "You see, her husband controls over seventy percent of the world's diamond, and of course, she controls him."

She swatted at his chest. "You're bad."

He smirked. "Enjoy yourself, Erin. I can't wait to see the magazine come out. Us combining forces? What could go wrong?"

* * *

Seaver walked up to Derek who was waiting at the bar. "Congratulations, you managed to _actually_ get him to show up here."

He smirked, nodding. "Yes, I did."

"But the question remains," she said, as if she hadn't been interrupted.

"-does he love you, or doesn't he?" Todd finished.

"We're going to find out," he put simply.

They all looked over and saw Spencer talking to an older man, presumably to pass the time and make standing around waiting much less awkward for him.

"It looks like you have some competition, so if he doesn't love you, he could always fall back on someone else," Todd told him.

They both laughed, walking away from him, leaving him to look over at Spencer with a grin on his face. After a minute, he turned back, going to the bar and ordering a few glasses of champagne.

He felt a hand wrap around his neck and saw the owner's wife with her arm wrapped around him. "Would you mind ordering me a whiskey sour, young man?"

"Yes, ma'am, I can." He held out his hand, "Derek Morgan, with Hotchner Advertising."

"How do you do?"

"The pleasure's all mine, believe me. It's nice to finally meet you."

"I'm very happy to meet you too," she said with a laugh.

He turned to the bartender. "Can I get a whiskey sour, please?" He then looked back at her and saw her shamelessly flirting with him. "I can promise you that our presentation for your company will be done well and keep you entertained."

"I can't wait to see what you present, Derek."

A few feet away, Spencer was leaning against one of the beams, smiling and laughing to himself, watching Derek try to get away from her and fail, only to have her keep flirting with him.

* * *

Hotch walked up to Seaver and Todd. "Ladies, what do we have?"

They all looked over and saw Spencer watching Derek. "Come on, Aaron, that's ridiculous," Todd spoke up, "he couldn't possibly. It's been _ten_ days."

"You never know," he shrugged. "He could possibly. I think I'm going to find out for myself."

The two of them shared a look as they saw Hotch walk away.

Spencer walked over to his table, setting down his champagne glass and picking up his place card, tracing his name with his finger.

"Excuse me?" he heard, putting down the place card and facing whoever was calling him. "You're Spencer, correct?" The gentleman held out a glass of white wine to him.

"Yes, I am," he said, smiling and holding up the glass as a silent thank you.

"I'm Aaron Hotchner."

He froze as he was about to take a sip. "You're Derek's boss…"

"That's right." He took Spencer's outstretched hand, shaking it.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, really. Derek's said great things about you."

He smiled, nodding. "Pleasure to meet you as well. I understand that, over the past ten days, you've been a true inspiration to Derek and his work. And I must say, you're looking great yourself. There isn't a single diamond in this room that sparkles like a man who's in love."

His eyes widened. "Oh, no," he shook his head quickly, "I'm not, I can't be in love."

"No? I guess I was mistaken then, my apologies."

"No, I mean," he cleared his throat, "I've only known him for ten days now, you can't – I can't be, you know." He shook his head, sipping the wine.

Hotch gave him a smile, nodding. "Derek is a very lucky man. Excuse me."

"Yeah," he said softly, watching Hotch walk away. He paused before turning to him. "Mr. Hotchner, can you _please_ not tell him? Please?"

Seaver and Todd traded a look, knowing they had to do something for this situation.

* * *

Derek walked through the crowd, two glasses of champagne in his hand, looking for Spencer.

"Derek, Derek," he heard from behind him and turned around to see Rossi and Garcia waiting.

"Hey?"

"He loves you, he loves you not. What is it?" Garcia asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know at this point. Fingers still crossed. We'll see."

"Derek."

He turned around and saw Hotch walking up to him. He nodded his greeting. "Mr. Hotchner."

He held up his wine glass. "Saw him, met him, he loves you, you win. Get ready to pitch first thing tomorrow."

Derek stood there, frozen, watching Garcia and Rossi both celebrate the victory.

"Congratulations, point man!" Garcia told him, squeezing his arm.

Rossi patted his other arm. "Very proud of you, kid."

Erin turned around to see Derek standing there, having been just congratulated by Hotch on the pitch. "So you're the new point man for the diamonds campaign."

Derek smirked. "He loves me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Good for you, and whoever he is."

* * *

Rossi popped the cork off of a champagne bottle while Garcia held two glasses.

"Ah, thank you so much," Garcia said, a smile on her face as Rossi poured her a glass.

"Oh, you're ever so welcome," Rossi told him.

"Gloating, are we?" Todd asked them.

Rossi nodded. "Yeah, pretty much," he said, taking a sip right out of the bottle. "Hotch told us directly, so-"

Garcia smirked. "You don't mess with my main man, Derek."

"Your man, Derek? He's a cheater," Todd spat out.

Seaver grinned. "Mhm, the guy's known about the bet from the get-go. He was just playing along so Derek would win and get the campaign."

"Be sure to tell him to enjoy his short-lived, ill-gotten victory. We're going to talk to Hotch about this." At that, the two of them were gone, leaving Garcia and Rossi worried.

Rossi eyed Garcia, shaking his head. "No, he didn't – let's-"

She nodded, resting her hand on his arm. "Come on."

They walked over to the table Spencer was sitting at by himself, drinking his wine.

"Hey, remember us?" Garcia asked, sitting next to him.

He nodded. "Hi, nice to see you again. Garcia?"

She gave him a thumbs up, motioning toward Rossi. "And Rossi."

Spencer gave him a quick wave before Garcia started talking to him.

"You know, Hotch, he's going to come over here to talk to you, and it would be amazing if you could just, like, pretend you didn't know about the bet?"

"I mean," Rossi started, "if you could just tell him that you really, truly love Derek, you know, and you weren't pretending to love him so you could help him win the bet? It would really be huge and be a big help to him."

Spencer took in these details, sighing, realizing that all along, he wasn't the only one looking for a way to advance his career. Even though it had become something to him, it was just what Derek wanted to do better at his own job.

* * *

Meanwhile, Derek was walking around the party, Strauss on his arm and constantly talking about the magazine.

"What's our average reader like? Well, they're spunky, insatiable, and uppity? You bet."

Derek held up one of his hands as he saw Spencer talking to Garcia and Rossi. "If you'll excuse me please, Erin, there is a beautiful man in a purple shirt and black blazer that I must go talk to."

"Oh, Spencer? Yeah, he's my go-to for 'how to' columns."

"I'm sorry, 'how to'?"

"Yes! Right now? He's doing this fantastic article called, 'How to', wait for it, 'Lose a Guy in Ten Days'."

Back at the table, Rossi was trying to convince Spencer of the right thing to do. Spencer was preoccupied, drinking up his glass of wine to get rid of the nagging feeling that Derek had only used him too, and the past weekend meant absolutely nothing.

"All you do is have to look him straight in the eye."

Garcia nodded. "And you just have to tell him that you love Derek, and don't mention anything about the bet."

"Yeah, love. Just, no bet, okay?" Rossi asked.

Spencer nodded, setting down his wine glass. "I understand."

"Awesome."

Garcia patted Spencer's arm. "Yes, that's the ticket, thank you. You look stunning, by the way." She gripped his arm before getting up, walking away from the table, leaving Spencer to sit there, stewing over his breaking heart.

Erin looked at Derek, explaining the article. "He's got this poor schmuck he's been pretending to date. Well, actually, not pretending to date, he's actually legitimately dating the guy. He's doing the world's worst things to him, and he's still stuck around, and her mission is to lose him on the tenth day. He actually – he's actually named his-" she froze, seeing the expression on Derek's face as he turned to her. "…You're Thor." She gave him a sympathetic look and turned around, walking away, leaving Derek alone to look at Spencer, the betrayal and heartbreak written all over his face.

* * *

Spencer leaned back in his seat, watching as Hotch took the stage to introduce the campaign. He was sat between Garcia and Rossi, and couldn't think of a possible way to get the hell out of there without raising suspicion, not to mention Derek was nowhere to be found right now. He'd gone to the bar to get them drinks when they arrived, and he hadn't seen him since. The one thing he was sure of was the fact that he was more pissed off than he'd ever been, and Derek was going to regret ever including him in his little game.

"Now, I'd like to bring to the stage, the man who's going to be running this campaign for the company, making us the most successful ad campaign this year. Ladies and gentlemen, Derek Morgan."

Spencer grabbed another drink from a tray as a waiter walked by, swallowing it in one gulp and setting the glass down, watching as Derek walked to the stage, taking the mic and talking about what he was ready to do for the company. He chewed on his cheek, not wanting his anger to get the best of him and grabbed another drink, finishing it and setting the glass on the table.

Garcia eyed him. "Okay over there, Boy Wonder?"

He quickly nodded, clearing his throat. "I am more than fine, thanks."

She gave him a worried look, but soon shrugged it off, looking back at Derek on the stage. "On the upside? Your wonderful chocolate Adonis is doing a great job, and this ad campaign is going to be huge for him." She nudged his arm. "And you helped him do it."

He raised his eyebrows. "I did, didn't I?" He looked up at the stage, smirking and shaking his head, realizing just how much he'd apparently helped Derek with his job, while Derek just made his more difficult. He bit down on his lip before putting up a finger to both Garcia and Rossi. "Just a minute." He got up, walking toward the stage. He realized just what he had to do in order to end this relationship and make himself stop feeling so used.

"What's he doing?" Rossi whispered.

She shrugged. "I don't – I can't even begin to read that mind."

* * *

Spencer grabbed one of the spare mics of the stage. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or his own anger fueling him, but there was far too much on his chest at the moment. "Everybody, just give it up for Derek Morgan." He tucked the mic under his arm, clapping his hands. He saw Strauss giving him a look, but he shrugged it off. "Ladies and gentlemen, Derek Morgan. He's a _fantastic_ man in advertising, quite the sports fan, and might I add, he is just _great_ at playing his own games. Isn't that right, Derek?"

Derek eyed Spencer. "Excuse me? You want to talk about playing games?"

Spencer held up a finger. "Not now, the adults who deserve an ounce of respect are talking. Does everyone want to know _how_ Derek got this ad campaign?" He looked around the room. "Anybody? Anybody at all? It's actually _quite_ the funny story, if you'd like to hear."

Derek walked over, putting his hand over Spencer's mic. "What in hell do you think you're doing right now?"

Spencer looked him right in the eye, glaring. "I'm done being a little pawn in your game here, Derek. I'm not going to be a little betting chip you throw on the table and toss aside when you're done."

"You want to talk about being used? I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was the only one doing something to get further in my career, Mr. 'I tell women how to do things so I can feel superior to them'."

Spencer scoffed. "You fooled me to win a stupid little bet with your co-workers, and you should be disgusted with yourself."

"Oh, _I_ should be disgusted? I'm sorry, I wasn't toying with a guy's heart so much I made him sit through a goddamn Celine Dion concert."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, _I_ wasn't the one singing along to My Heart Will Go On, or, I'm sorry, is that my fault?"

"Could be, considering we couldn't sit through Titanic long enough to hear it because you were too busy starting fights and getting me punched out."

Spencer heard laughter coming from the audience and suddenly realized just how public their argument was.

Rossi looked at Garcia. "Alcohol and brutal honesty – bad combo."

"Indeed."

Spencer turned back to Derek, shaking his head. "You should really be ashamed." He set the mic down before turning away from him, walking away. As he walked past the table he'd been sitting at, he patted Rossi's shoulder. "Thank you." At that, he turned around, not getting a second look at Derek or anybody else before leaving the building.

* * *

He had made it down to the sidewalk when he heard someone calling his name.

"Oh no, Spencer Reid, I am not done with you, not by a longshot."

Spencer turned around to face him. "I was _nothing_. You used me to get ahead in your work you goddamn arrogant, backstabbing pig."

"I'm sorry. _I_ used _you_? Come on, Spencer, you drove me up a wall just so you could write a little magazine article, at a publication you've said yourself you couldn't care less about if you tried. That's all I was, you just wanted to ruin me so you could write a few pages about our relationship that was an obvious joke."

Spencer shook his head. "You told several people that you could make any poor sucker in a bar fall in love with you, and apparently, I was exhibit A for that."

"You really want to talk about integrity right now? All I was to you was a little guinea pig, to test your ridiculous little theories on. I never meant anything?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I was just that guy someone pointed out in a bar for you to make fall in love with you."

"Yeah, you know what? Big deal, now this can be a little twist in your story that mattered _so_ much to you, somebody else's feelings didn't matter."

He sniffed, shrugging. "That's a great idea, maybe we should bet on it. You seem to be really good at those."

Derek put up his hands. "You know what? You did your job, Spencer."

"I guess I did."

"You wanted to lose a guy in ten days? That's what your story was all about? Well guess what? You just lost him, and I'm not coming back." Derek turned around, walking back inside.

"I didn't, Derek," he called out, "because you can't lose something that you never even had."

They both just stared at each other for a minute, unsure of what they were really doing, before Spencer shook his head, turning around and walking down the street, hailing a cab, and Derek walking back into the party. This was going to be Spencer's breaking point, and he wasn't sure what he was going to do now that he'd been nothing but a simple bet.

* * *

While in the cab, Spencer took out his phone, calling Emily and leaning back against the seat.

She answered after a few rings. "Hey, Spencer. How'd the big night go?"

He sniffed, wiping his eyes and sighing. "Can you meet me at my place in twenty, please?"

She raised an eyebrow. "At your place? I thought you were at Derek's big thing tonight, for that ad campaign-"

"Emily, please?"

She checked the clock. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll be there in twenty. Do you need me to bring anything?"

He shook his head, exhaling. "Nothing, I just, I can't be alone tonight. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Should I wait for you to let me in or should I just use the spare key?"

"I don't care, either or, I'm not too picky right now." He got out of the cab, paying the driver and walking into the building.

"Okay, I'll see you soon, Spencer. Just stay together a little longer and I'll be right there."

"We'll see."

She hung up and Spencer sighed, taking the elevator up to his apartment. After getting in, he kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie, almost immediately changing out of the suit and into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt.

There was a knock on the door fifteen minutes later and Spencer shook his head, pulling his knees to his chest.

"It's open, Em."

She stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind her, putting the key into her pocket. She then walked over, setting a grocery bag on the table. "I wasn't sure if this was an 'ice cream fixer-upper', or a munchies moment, so I brought both."

He gave her a slight smirk before focusing on the carpet in his living room, sniffing.

She pulled off her jacket, throwing it on one of the chairs. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" she asked, taking a seat next to him and wrapping her arm around him, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

He sniffed, quickly shaking his head before burying his head in Emily's shoulder, crying. All she could do was sit there and rub his back, attempting to comfort him the best she could.

Once he'd calmed down, Emily looked down at him. "Did he find out about the article, is that why you're so upset?"

He nodded, but followed it with a head shake, sniffling.

"I can't say I'm following you," she said softly, rubbing his back.

He swallowed, clearing his throat. "He was using me for a bet. His co-workers bet him this big ad campaign that he couldn't make some sucker fall in love with him in ten days. And I'm the sucker. He won, I lost. He got his big ad campaign, he got somebody to fall in love with him, and I'm the one who ends up hurt in the end."

"So he didn't find out?"

"No, he did." He reached over, grabbing a tissue and wiping his eyes. "And we had this _huge_ blowout. Erin was right there and saw everything. I called him out, he called me out, and then it got extremely personal very fast. He got what he wanted and I don't get why I'm the bad guy here. He used me just as much as I used him, but in the end, he gets the chance of a lifetime in his career and I have to find out if I can even muster up the strength to write this stupid article I don't even care about anymore. It's not fair."

Emily shook her head, wrapping her arms around Spencer and pulling him into a hug, rubbing his back. "Do you think you can do it?"

He tried catching his breath and shook his head. "I can't. I don't care if Erin said I can do whatever I want. I can't just present a quirky article about dating wrongs and rights and put it out there for people to read. I don't think anyone should know what I did to him."

Emily gave him a sympathetic look, sighing. "You still love him."

He nodded before crying again. "But after tonight? There's no way this is going to happen again. Not after everything he said and everything I did. I feel so stupid. I judged JJ so harshly for loving Will so much after a week, and here I am, blubbering like an idiot over a guy I've known for exactly ten days."

She squeezed his arm. "You can't help who you fall in love with, Spencer. I wish I could say you could, but you can't."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

Emily thought for a moment before looking at him. "You're going to talk to me until you get everything out, absolutely everything you need that's pent up, whether it's anger or being upset or sadness or whatever it is. You're going to bed and sleeping it off, because you have the next day and a half off to write this article, and you're sleeping as much as your body wants. Then, whenever you do wake up? You're going to start this article your way. Forget how Erin wants it. It's your life, it's your heartbreak, and if she doesn't love it? Fuck her, because it's going to be genius." She saw Spencer crack a smile and smirked. "There he is."

He looked in the bag, taking out two pints of ice cream and holding one out to Emily. "How much time do you have?"

"All the time in the world," she told him, taking off the lid and grabbing a spoon from the bag.

* * *

That night, Spencer let out everything he'd been holding back over the past ten days. He told her about the trip home with Derek, in every single detail he hadn't shared before, as well as the exact moment he knew he'd fallen for Derek. It wasn't until a few hours later that Spencer had stopped talking, simply looking down into his ice cream and scraping at the bottom.

Emily reached over, rubbing his arm. "You need to use it, Spencer. These emotions, they're what's going to help make you a great writer, I promise. You're going to use them, put out the best article of your career, and when you skyrocket to the top? You're going to remember poor suckers like JJ and I, who want to make it where you are."

He sniffed, smiling slightly, before setting the empty pint on the table. "Let's hope so."

"No hope, I know you're going to make it. Now come on, get yourself to bed. I'll be here when you wake up if you still need to talk."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, walking to his linen closet and taking out blankets and pillows, throwing them down on the couch. "I'll be fine. You, however, should be taking some Tylenol and drinking water like a madman, because if not? You're going to be in the middle of the world's worst hangover tomorrow."

He was ready to argue her on the subject, but shook his head, grabbing a water bottle from his fridge and popping a few Tylenol in his mouth, swallowing them. "Good night, Emily."

"Night, Reid."

He turned back to look at her before walking into his bedroom. "And thank you."

She saluted him. "Anytime."


	12. Aftermath

Spencer slaved over that article, harder than he'd ever worked on anything else since starting the job. He didn't just make it a how-to: he poured his heart and soul into it, not leaving anything up to the reader's imagination. He walked into work and set the copy on Strauss's desk, hoping to walk out and avoid confrontation.

"Ah, Spencer. Are we over our little outburst?" she asked, turning around in her chair.

He winced as he was reaching for the door handle. "You said I had to lose him in ten days, I lost him."

"That you did, with quite the show. Bravo."

He gave her a smirk. "Erin, I really have to get back to my desk, I have some phone calls to make-"

She pointed to the chair in front of her desk. "Sit, I'll proofread it right now."

He took a deep breath, exhaling, before sitting down and watching her go through every single page. It seemed to him that she was hanging on every single word and thoroughly enjoying it. Even though it hurt, maybe this was finally the breakthrough article he needed to finally be able to do what he wanted.

* * *

Once she was done, she set the copy on her desk, taking off her glasses. "It's definitely not what I expected-"

Spencer sighed, not ready for what was going to come next. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words were coming out.

"It's actually better. Congratulations, Spencer. You've finally showed me your true potential, and now you're ready to do whatever you want. From this point forward? You're free to write about anything your heart desires."

He bit down on his lip as he smiled. "Really? Anything?"

She nodded, setting the copy down. "Wherever the wind may blow you."

He couldn't contain how happy he was. "So, anything? I could even write about politics?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure the wind's going to blow you that far," she told him, picking up a red pen and marking his copy.

His face fell. "What about religion or poverty or economics or maybe even-"

Strauss held up her hand. "Think of this wind as more of a little breeze."

He crossed his arms. "Then do tell me what I can write about, and therefore, your personal definition of 'anything'."

"Whatever you want to be your subject matter: shoes, cosmetics, laser therapy, dressing for your body type – use your imagination here, Spencer. You're a smart guy, I'm sure you can figure out something to please our female readers, and maybe even bring in a male demographic."

He paused, chewing on his cheek. "So you only wanted me around to show potential so you could drag male readers into a magazine where the cover tells women in big, bold letters how to have their best orgasm? No offense, but no self respecting man is going to pick that up and do anything but laugh."

She gave him a look. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I'd like to thank you for this opportunity."

She smiled. "Okay, glad I could help."

He gave her an even wider smile. "And _thank you_ for making it that much easier to turn it down." Without another word, Spencer walked out of her office, walking over to his cubicle and sinking into his seat.

Emily eyed him. "So, how did it go?"

He scoffed. "She loved it and I can write about anything-"

She gasped, hitting his arm. "Spencer, that's huge for you. Anything?"

"Oh yes, anything I want that'll bring in a male demographic, not necessarily anything I _actually_ want to write about as a serious journalist."

She raised an eyebrow, holding up a finger. "So, wait, she told you that you could write about anything you wanted, and that was the bait to write this article. You wrote the article, exceeded her expectations, and the best she can do for you is say 'write what you want that makes me happy'?"

He nodded. "That sounds about right."

"…So, what are you going to do? Are you going to call Derek?"

He looked up at her, biting his lip and shaking his head. "After what I did to him, if you were in his shoes, would _you_ pick up the phone?"

She reached over, rubbing his back and sighing. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

In that moment, it really hit Spencer how ridiculous the whole situation was. He dated someone for this article, where his boss promised him the world, and now that he'd done it, she was going back on her word, twisting it to make it seem like she'd told him the truth from the beginning. The one thing he was sure of was the fact that he needed to find something else to do to make him happy in life, because there was no way he could continue to play by these twisted rules.

* * *

At the same time, Derek sat in his office, tossing a foam football in the air and catching it, thinking to himself. He could call Spencer and talk to him, but what exactly does somebody say after they're used for furthering a career, and you'd used them for a stupid bet?

"It's obviously not my proudest moment," he said out loud, "and if I could, I'd do things a whole lot differently. Maybe I would tell him from the get-go and avoid this awkward version of heartbreak." He shrugged. "I could've treated him better, asked him about his job, and maybe I'd have known about this and we could've worked around it. There's nothing I can do now, though. He's writing his article, I have this campaign, and that's that." He turned to look at Clooney, who was fast asleep in the dog bed in the corner. "You're always a great listener, you know that, bud?" He laughed to himself, grabbing the ticket to game seven sitting on his desk and looking at it. He considered going for a fraction of a second before putting it back down, sighing. If he went and Spencer was there, it would hurt, but if he went and he wasn't there, it would hurt a lot more. Instead, he opted to throw it in the trash, deciding not to go.

* * *

Spencer sat on the couch in JJ's apartment that night, watching game seven on TV.

"Thanks again for letting me watch the game here," he said, pulling the blanket over himself. "I just-"

JJ put up her hand. "You don't need to explain yourself, believe me. You have helped me out of enough dating black holes that I definitely owe you this one."

He smiled slightly, eyeing the TV and sighing.

"Spence, I wouldn't have gone to the game either," she walked over, handing him a beer. "I mean, I wouldn't _liked_ to go, considering it is a game seven and definitely history in the making, but," she shrugged. "Oh well."

Spencer leaned against the pillow on her couch, sighing.

"You're doing the right thing, here," she reassured him, squeezing his arm. "I promise."

He didn't say anything, looking back at the TV and biting down on his lip.

There was a knock on the door and JJ got up. "That'll be our Chinese food. You know, it's not every day you can get a Chinese place to make chicken tandoori, but you know what? I worked my magic. Granted, they probably messed it up completely, but I know it's your favorite."

He gave her a quick smile before chewing on his cheek.

JJ patted his leg before getting up, grabbing her wallet off of the counter and walking over to the door, opening it and looking through her wallet. "Okay, so that's going to be $36 including tip," she said, going through her wallet and counting.

"JJ?"

She looked up and saw Will standing there, her eyes going wide and closing the door, turning to Spencer. "…That wasn't our Chinese food. It was Will."

He sat up. "Will as in _Will_?"

She nodded, pacing. "Quick, what do I do?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "You… talk to him."

She took a deep breath before reaching over, opening the door again. "…Will?"

He stepped forward, flowers in his hand. "Hi."

"…So what are you doing here?"

Spencer sat up, trying to get a better view of the two of them.

"I'm not exactly sure, but last night, it came to me. I was just lying there in bed, trying to get some sleep before work, and you know that perfume, the one you sprayed on my pillow to remember you?" JJ gave him a nod. "The smell is gone now, and JJ, I miss it. I want it back and I'm sorry."

JJ cleared her throat, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm not really sure you can have it back."

He looked at her, defeated. "Right, yeah, okay."

She looked back at Spencer as he started to walk away. Spencer gave her a look, as if to tell her to go after him. She nodded, turning around and poking her head in the hallway. "But I'm willing to consider giving you another try?"

He smiled. "Okay, yeah." He held out a bouquet of flowers. "These are for you – I remembered you liked roses."

She smelled them, smirking. "They're great, thank you."

Not long after, JJ leaned up, capturing Will's lips with her own and wrapping her arms around his neck. Once they started making out, JJ pulled back, looking over at Spencer and putting up a finger. "You have a key to the apartment, right?"

He gave her a thumbs up and she reached for her purse, grabbing it and walking out, closing the door behind her. He was extremely happy for JJ, because getting Will back was just what she needed for her broken heart. Having experienced true love in a short amount of time, he could no longer make fun of her, but instead, he could empathize and understand why she'd been so committed. It wasn't about being clingy or needy, it was about love, and just a few days ago, he'd had just that.


	13. Conclusion

Derek stood on set of the commercial shoot, watching it for what had to be the fiftieth take that morning. He saw Hotch talking to the owner to his left, but he didn't really find it in him to care about what was being said. Instead, he walked over, shaking their hands and looking at the video monitor.

"Can I see playback on this please?" he asked, pointing to it. Soon after, the commercial replayed.

"Come on, Derek, you know you want to open me," he heard Rossi's voice taunting him. He rolled his eyes, turning to face him, and saw him with an issue of Spencer's magazine in front of his face.

Derek shoved him out of the way. "Get that out of here, it's not funny."

"Please?" Derek ignored him, keeping an eye on the monitor. Rossi took it upon him to flip the magazine open to the article, holding it out to him. "You might want to give this a look."

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Yeah, really?" He looked back at it, looking for bits to read out to him. "'I've lost a guy and I don't know why. What went wrong? When I started with this month's column, I wanted to commit everyone's dating faux pas and show how they don't work in anyone's favor. What I didn't realize at the time was that I was making the biggest mistake of my life'." He sighed, holding it back out. "Here, trust me, it's worth the read."

Derek took it, looking down at the article and reading it. Highlighted were a few quotes, including 'I've lost the only guy I've ever truly fallen for', 'the last ten days were the best I've ever spent with anyone in my life', 'I played a game and I played it too well: when I won, I lost', and another, stating that it would be his final column with the magazine. He flipped through it a few times before sighing, knowing that he couldn't let him get away.

He turned to Hotch, biting his lip. "Hotch, I need to take off, there's something I need to do."

"But, Derek, this is your campaign-"

"And I trust that my creative team can handle it." He reached in his pocket, taking out the keys to his motorcycle. "Hotch, please."

He eyed the magazine in Derek's hands and looked back at him, nodding. "We'll get your approval before we finalize anything."

He put his hands together in a thank you to Hotch before running up to his office and grabbing his helmet, then rushing to the elevator.

* * *

He got on his motorcycle, fastening his helmet, and weaved through traffic like he never had before. Even though he'd never been to Spencer's work, he remembered the address from sending him the chocolate covered strawberries, and did his best to map out the way there on his own. Luckily, he ended up in front of the building and parked his bike between two cars, before running to the elevator and pressing the button for the right floor. The wait was agonizing, but he finally arrived, running out. He walked up to the desk, tapping on it.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Spencer Reid?"

She pointed to the area with the cubicles and he nodded, walking over and looking in several of them before finally finding it. Stepping inside, he saw that the desk was empty, everything had been taken down from the walls, and the only thing remaining was the fern. He looked at it, shaking his head, before turning to Emily's cubicle.

"Ma'am?" he asked.

She turned around, facing him. "…Holy crap."

"Can you tell me where Spencer Reid is?"

She raised an eyebrow. "He's not here."

"Then can you tell me where he is?"

JJ walked up behind him, playing with her nails. "He quit yesterday, he's got an interview in D.C."

"…Do you know when he's leaving?"

Emily nodded. "Today?"

"When today?"

She checked her watch. "Well, he's probably leaving for the airport now."

He grabbed the fern off her desk, and as he was walking away, turned to JJ. "Tell me, you're not a real therapist, are you?"

JJ's eyes widened, smiling nervously. "Oh, me? ... No, not at all."

He smiled, nodding. "Good job though," he told her before walking away.

JJ looked at Emily, proud of herself as Derek called back. "You owe me $300."

* * *

He ran out of the building, putting the fern on the back of the bike, strapped in, before putting on his helmet and climbing on, on a mission to go directly to Spencer's apartment. He got there just as the doorman was putting his bags into the trunk of the cab and saw Spencer get into the backseat. Knowing he had to act fast, he lifted up his helmet.

"Spencer!" he called out as loudly as he could, but it didn't get his attention. Groaning to himself at the red light above him, he could only hope the cab hit traffic. After a bus passed, he blew through the light, following several cabs and looking in each one as he passed them. He had to admit, this wasn't his brightest idea, but it was something he needed to do.

* * *

Spencer sat in the back of the cab, looking down at his lap. He knew he couldn't go back to that magazine after telling Strauss off. He knew he couldn't go back to his apartment and not think about Derek. He knew that everything here needed to be put in the past, and he needed a new life, where there were no incentives that involved breaking somebody's heart after really getting to know them. Chewing on his cheek, he was sure of one thing: this place couldn't be home again if he couldn't have the one person he'd ever fall in love with.

Soon after, there was a pounding on the window and he jumped, unsure of what had just happened. Looking over, he saw Derek on his motorcycle, riding alongside the cab.

"Spencer," he called out, knocking on the window, "pull over, we need to talk right now."

He raised an eyebrow, rolling the window down. "Derek, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

He shrugged. "If that's what it takes, then yes. Now, pull over the cab."

Spencer was confused, but he leaned toward the driver. "Excuse me, can you please pull over? I'm really not feeling well."

The driver made a disgusted face, but did as he requested, pulling over after the next light, Derek parking behind it.

Spencer got out, slamming the door behind him. "What in the world is wrong with you?"

Derek held up the magazine. "Is this the truth?"

"Derek, please-"

He cut him off. "Is this article true, or are you just trying to sell magazines and make yourself look good?"

Spencer licked his lips, sighing. "I meant every word I wrote."

"Then tell me where you're going."

"…I have an interview somewhere else."

"Yeah, Washington, one of your coworkers told me. Now, where are you going?"

Spencer blinked a few times before chancing a look at Derek. "It's the only place I can go where I can actually write what I want to write and do what I want to do without ridiculous incentives."

He shook his head. "I'm not buying that. You can write anywhere. You're running away."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Why don't you save your stupid little mind games for your next little bet? I'm not running away." He turned around to get into the back of the cab.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Bullshit."

Spencer turned around to face him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, it's bullshit." He leaned over, throwing the magazine into a garbage can.

The cab driver turned around to face Spencer. "What are you going to do?"

Derek reached in his pocket, taking out cash and handing it to him. "Do me a favor and take the luggage back to his place, he's got a new way to get home."

Spencer looked at him. "Are you calling my bluff?"

"Yes, I am." He rested a hand on each of Spencer's cheeks before pulling him in for a kiss.

Spencer allowed himself to melt into it, smiling and pulling back. "So, should we take this back to your place?"

Derek nodded. "I think so… one condition?"

"Anything."

He smirked. "Don't you _dare_ start calling anything on me princess."

Spencer laughed softly, nodding. "I think I can handle that."

* * *

Looking back on the story of his life, Spencer could point out several things that mattered to him, though only one ever took precedence over the rest: the day that he got back the one that got away. He had gotten his dream job, he felt like he was making a difference, and he knew he was doing something but mattered. The highlight of his day, every day, was going home to the one man who ever really, truly loved him. Spencer took several trips back to Chicago with Derek, telling his mother they were back together, they were happily dating, and then when they got engaged. There was no longer any assignment binding them together, or a bet driving them to love each other – they did it all on their own. There didn't need to be anything forcing them to be together, because they found exactly what they needed in each other's company.


End file.
